Aurora
by Mouko
Summary: Cursed with a tragic birth and no hope, Malik’s life holds only misery. Born in Ancient Egypt, he expects little and receives even less. It was only a matter of time before the darkness itself came for him, with unexpected results. Bakura x Malik
1. Chapter One

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter One

----

"...Do you really have to go...?"

A young boy, looking to be in his late teens, sighed while shuffling about as he looked up rather pleadingly. He was wearing a rather plain tan tunic, nothing too special or decorative, which covered every inch of his body save his hands, bare feet, and from the neck up. A golden mop of unruly hair covered his shoulders with bangs dangling over his piercing violet eyes.

The woman he was speaking to, who had been facing away from him, ready to leave, paused and turned towards the younger boy. She had long dark hair that was mostly obscured beneath a light colored cloak and hood to protect her head from the sun, and bright blue eyes that looked reminiscent of a clear sky. She wore a tunic, much like the boy did, only one more fitting for a female to wear, and it was adorned with symbols denoting her status as a priestess in training. A soft sigh escaped her as she reached out to ruffle the blond boy's hair in an affectionate manner.

"I am sorry, Malik, but I need to return to the temple to continue my training," the young woman said gently. "I told you before that my visit home was for only these past few days, remember?"

"I know..." the young boy sighed, slumping his shoulders. He had known she would respond as such even before he asked; still, there was no harm in trying.

The woman smiled gently before she leaned forward to kiss the boy's forehead softly. "Goodbye, little brother," she said as she leaned back. "Be good. I will try to come back and visit again soon."

"Yes, sister Isis," Malik replied, smiling at the woman despite how pained and miserable he felt inside at her departure.

Isis ruffled Malik's hair one last time before she turned and walked out the door, her sandals lightly clicking across the floor before going virtually silent against the sandy ground outside.

Malik fell silent as he watched Isis leave, listening intently as the sounds of her footsteps grew softer until they became nonexistent. He knew she had important duties at the temples, training to become a Priestess; perhaps even High Priestess!

Still, he missed her greatly.

"Boy."

Malik jerked up, his back going stiff as his eyes widened.

An older man who wore slightly ornate robes colored with shades of red and tan gazed at Malik with dark eyes the color of a stormy sea that were just as unforgiving as their color. He had a number of wrinkles on his rough tanned skin, although they were mostly hidden by a scraggly white beard and mustache. He also wore a wig of tightly braided black hair that denoted he was someone of high standing.

"Isis is gone," the man said, his tone as sharp as a razor's edge.

"Yes sir!" Malik turned about, keeping his eyes focused intently on the floor.

"If you know then why haven't you gotten dressed and gone to work!?" the man roared as he backhanded Malik across the face without warning.

Malik yelped as he fumbled back, grimacing as his cheek burned red. The teenaged boy quickly regained his balance and bowed low, muttering an apology, before he reached into his robes to pull out a hood. He placed it over his head quickly, hiding his hair from view, before fastening the attached veil so as to cover most of his face.

"Good," the man nodded sharply in approval at the young man's addition to his attire. "Now go scrub the room you've tainted with your filth. It needs to be purified."

"Yes sir, right away sir." Malik scurried to the closet, proceeding to open it quickly to grab a large bucket and scrub brushes. Balancing them precariously in his arms, he closed the closet door.

"Make sure you do a better job than last time, or your punishment will be worse than it was then," the man said as he parted open his robes to reveal a coiled whip at his side, which he patted for emphasis.

Malik cringed, a shudder running up his spine, before he darted from the room as quickly as his legs could carry him.

"Piece of filth," the man spat as Malik fled, not caring if the blond heard or not.

Malik scrambled down the hallway, gasping, until he ducked into a room. He fumbled to a stop, panting heavily, before he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

Malik had heard what the man said about him; he was well aware how much his father hated him. Not that he was allowed to call him "father" or acknowledge any kinship to him; he had accidentally done so once and was nearly beaten to death for it.

To his sister Isis, whenever she came to visit, he became Malik, her brother. As soon as she left, he once again became Malik, the filth. Isis was not to know of what happened to him when she was not around, hiding just how his father treated him with smiles and false words of happiness. And his father made sure that Malik understood that he would regret it if he dared try to tell her, not that he wanted to taint his time with her by mentioning such things. His happiest moments were when Isis came to visit, even if he had to clean the house furiously both before and after her visit to prepare it and then decontaminate it.

His father loathed him; in his eyes, Malik was lower than even the lowliest slave on the market. His father had never forgiven him for "killing" his mother during childbirth. His father had adored her beyond all treasures; to take her from him, Malik had earned himself a place within the sheer depths of the man's hatred.

Malik shivered as he removed one of the brushes, sighing.

With a grunt, Malik dropped to his knees and proceeded to scrub at the floor. He had to scrub the floor until the brush was dry, and then wet it, before scrubbing again. The entire process took hours, but it at least kept him out of his father's way (and his wrath); at least for a little while.

If only Isis didn't have to go...

A sudden sharp crack pierced his thoughts before a searing pain exploded across Malik's back. Malik cried out as he arched his back, dropping the brush so that it clattered against the ground loudly.

"Who told you that you could take a break!?" his father roared as he held the whip in a tight grip at his side.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Malik whimpered as he grabbed the brush and scrubbed the floor furiously.

"I can't take my eyes off of you for a moment, can I?" the elder man snapped.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Malik repeated, scrubbing the floor as hard as he could. "I'm very, very sorry!"

His father just snorted in disgust. "Sometimes I wonder why I keep you around at all," he muttered, although it was hard to tell whether he was saying it to himself or Malik. "I suppose that I'm too generous for my own good to even keep a demon like you alive."

Malik didn't respond, keeping his eyes on the floor as he scrubbed. He hadn't meant to pause; he had just gotten so lost in his thoughts he hadn't noticed that he wasn't working anymore. He didn't blame his father for being angry with him, though he wished he didn't have to express that anger by beating him.

Malik sighed as he worked. He just wished that Isis could take him with her. At that, anyone would do. He just wished someone, anyone, could take him away to a better place: somewhere where he might actually be wanted.

Even if only a little bit.

----

Night came all too quickly before Malik was finally done scrubbing the room. Darkness filled the house, covering every inch with its ominous presence. The poor boy could barely see as he trudged through the hallway, carrying the scrub brushes and buckets.

His entire body ached, especially his hands. He could barely even feel them anymore, save for the dull aching pain in his bones. He supposed it would hurt worse if he could feel them completely, so he counted himself lucky for small blessings.

Malik trudged towards the closet, slowly opening the door before placing down the bucket with the brushes inside. He closed it once more, then sighed and slumped against it to rest. He was exhausted, but he wasn't looking forward to bed. When Isis wasn't around, he slept in the barn with the animals. It smelled rather badly in there, though he was normally used to it. However, it was always so hard getting used to it again after sleeping in a clean room...

A sudden noise reached his ears, soft yet startling: it sounded almost like someone had started to cry out but then stopped for some reason.

Malik blinked and looked up. He waited for a moment, listening. Was his father awake?

As he listened another noise was heard, a faint groan, but it sounded as if it were coming from the other room.

Malik blinked, then stood up and fumbled towards the source of the sound. All of his instincts told him to flee, to run and hide. However, morbid curiosity won out over self-preservation.

As he cautiously peered around the corner into the next room he suddenly found himself staring straight into someone else's eyes.

Malik's eyes widened drastically as he jerked back, shielding his head with his arms. "I'm sorry-!" he cried, instinctively.

However, his apology was quickly silenced as a hand moved to seize his mouth roughly. Something cold and sharp suddenly pressed against his throat, lightly cutting it, as the vague shape of a man with striking silver eyes spoke just as darkly as the shadows that mostly hid his body. "Scream and I'll slit your throat," the stranger hissed harshly into Malik's ear.

Malik's eyes widened drastically as he gasped sharply, his body going cold as the fact dawned on him: it wasn't his father or one of the servants. "Y-yah...?"

"Be silent and don't resist," the man hissed. "Or I'll kill you."

Malik squeaked, his eyes trailing down until he noticed that the hand at his mouth was covered in blood. The blond's pupils shrunk as all the color drained from his face, a tremor running up his spine.

"You will show me where the valuables are," the man ordered as he moved to stand behind Malik, one hand still holding the captive boy's mouth while the other kept the dagger's edge at the poor boy's throat.

Malik trembled, his heart racing so hard he could hear it in his ears. Shakily, he lifted his hand to point down the hallway to the living room. He knew that his father would be furious at him for exposing the hiding place of his valuables, but for the moment he was only concerned about death: more importantly, his fear of it.

"Lead the way," the man whispered almost mockingly as he moved the knife to poke the point at the back of the blond's neck.

Malik yipped in response, and then fumbled forward. He slowly walked down the hallway, gasping loudly as his heart raced even faster. He could taste the blood on his lips, feeling the sticky substance cling to his face. It repulsed him and terrified him, as it reminded him that his own blood might soon be liberated from his veins.

"No tricks," the man hissed in Malik's ear. "I'll see right through it and kill you before anyone even knows to help you."

Malik swallowed hard and whimpered in response, slowly walking into the living room before coming to a stop in front of a large altar to the gods. He quickly averted his eyes and tensed, staring at the floor. His father and sister were both very religious; he himself had been taught a few things about religion, but nothing too special. However, the young boy knew that he wasn't allowed to be in the room, let alone look at the altar. His father insisted it would be an insult to the gods; Malik could still remember the beating he had received when his father caught him looking at the altar, making certain the young boy would never again think to gaze upon the likeness of the gods.

The man said nothing as he poked Malik with the knife between the poor boy's shoulder blades.

Malik swallowed hard and moved forward, struggling to squeeze behind the statue, trying his best not to look at the idol or else risk angering the gods anymore than he already had. He had a vague idea where the vault was, having once heard his father tell Isis its location and instruct her to use it in cases of emergency. He reached up to push at the wall, causing a stone to slide in, revealing a hidden compartment. Slowly, the poor blond reached inside to pull out a large pile of expensive jewelry, idols, and gold.

"Good," the man practically purred as he laid his eyes on the prize. He then pulled Malik out from behind the statue, moving his arm back around so that his hostage could see the knife's blade glint in the pale moonlight that shone in through the window. "I will release your mouth for now, but if you make a sound you will die."

Malik nodded weakly, his hands shaking visibly as he held the valuables. His fingers ached, protesting such abuse, but he didn't dare drop anything.

The stranger slowly removed his hand from Malik's mouth, being very cautious to make sure that the blond wasn't going to scream. Once confident that his captive wasn't going to resist him, he reached out to snatch the valuables.

Malik swallowed hard, shaking despite his attempts to hold perfectly still. In spite of his fear, the blond couldn't help but look at his captor in an attempt to at least see his face.

The combination of the light that shined in from the stars and moon outside and the reflection of that light from the knife blade and the gold gave just enough light for Malik to finally get a better look at his captor. The man wore a large open robe over a dark sarong and a pair of soft shoes, all of which were obviously stolen considering how finely they were made. The fact that the thief was wearing quite a bit of expensive jewelry only accented that thought. After a moment he recognized some of the pieces and realized that this man must have stolen from his father's own bedroom. The bandit's head was partially obscured by a hood, but from what Malik could see, the thief's face wore a wicked smile as his piercing silver eyes scanned over his ill-gotten loot. Bits of silver could be seen from underneath the hood, possibly stolen jewelry that was worn on his head. Most likely the silver-eyed man was adding insult to injury to his father by wearing one of his best bejeweled wigs.

Malik blinked slowly as he stared at the thief, and then looked away slowly. He doubted his captor would appreciate getting stared at.

The man looked over the treasure for barely a minute before he hurried to place them all in an empty sack tied to his waist, eager to take what he wanted and leave before getting caught.

Malik paused as he noticed the thief's distraction. Half of him screamed at him to hold still, else the thief would kill him...

But then, the thief most likely intended to kill him anyway.

Malik chewed on his lower lip before he narrowed his eyes. He had to at least try; maybe the thief wouldn't even follow, now that he had the treasure.

His mind made up, the captive boy tensed before he whirled and bolted towards the hallway.

Malik gasped as he darted out of the room, hurrying to try and escape. He didn't dare scream for help, as it would alert the thief to his whereabouts as well as give the bandit a reason to chase. If he were quiet and simply hid, then the thief would have no real reason to chase him.

Save that Malik had seen his face...

Malik cringed at the thought as he hurried down the hall, and then darted through a nearby doorway. He looked around wildly, finding himself in a guest bedroom, and then lunged towards the clothes closet and threw himself into a corner. He pressed up against the wall, out of sight and concealed by the shadows.

The blond clasped his hands over his mouth to stifle his heavy breathing as well as any noises that he might accidentally make. Then, he held perfectly still and listened.

Malik was greeted with silence, thick and stifling. The sound of his heartbeat grew more prominent in his ears as the silence seemed to thicken around him like a fog.

Minutes ticked by slowly as silence continued to reign. Perhaps the thief was satisfied with his prize and fled before Malik perchance found someone to help him? However, the terrified boy decided to wait for just a little while longer before he dared to look around.

Time slowly past until, finally, Malik simply couldn't stand the wait anymore. Slowly, the blond moved towards the closet door and peered out into the bedroom.

Suddenly a whisper tickled his ear.

"Did I say you could go yet?"

Malik nearly jumped out of his skin as he let out a strangled squeak, jerking back instinctively. However, he didn't watch where he stepped and accidentally slipped on a slipper. The poor blond fell backwards and let out a pained cry as his back hit the wall roughly, then slipped down into a sitting position.

Again the familiar feeling of a hand covering his mouth roughly came to the fallen boy, to silence his cry. A pair of silver eyes glittered slightly in the dark as they peered into his soft lavender ones once they opened again.

"I told you not to scream," the thief half hissed, half chided.

Malik's eyes widened as he stared up at the thief, his body trembling with pain and fear. "Please... no..." he whispered, muffled by the thief's hand.

"Hold out your hands and don't move until I tell you to," the man ordered.

Malik swallowed and did what he was told, his slender hands trembling as he held them out. "Please..." he muttered, pleadingly.

The thief said nothing as he removed his hand then briskly tied the blond's wrists securely. At least, that's what it felt like, but it was too dark in the room to really make out much more than vague shapes.

And those eyes...

Malik whimpered as he bowed his head, shoulders slumped as he continued to tremble. "Please... please..." he begged. He didn't want to die, no matter how terrible his life was with his father.

Once the blond's wrists were securely tied, the thief tugged on them. "Stand up," he commanded.

Malik squeaked, and then fumbled up to his feet, flinching and letting out a soft gasp of pain. His ankle throbbed, most likely injured due to the fall.

The thief let out a soft grunt before he tied something around the blond's mouth, effectively silencing the quiet noises of pain Malik made. Suddenly, he took a hold of his captive and slung the poor boy over his shoulder.

Malik squeaked in surprise, and then shivered as he tensed. He didn't know where he was going or what the thief was going to do to him, but he was so terrified that he felt like he was going to throw up. He only hoped that he could keep it in. He sincerely doubted that the frightening man would appreciate it if Malik lost the contents of his stomach on him.

The thief carried him off through the house with only the occasional glimpse of light from outside giving the poor captive boy any indication as to where they might be exactly. Malik craned his head to see, though he wasn't sure what good it would do. He idly wondered if his father would even bother to save him...

Or if he'd just let the thief take him and be done with him.

That thought brought a soft sob to Malik's throat, his eyes watering.

"Be silent and don't struggle," the thief ordered in a quiet yet sharp hiss.

Malik flinched and lowered his head, closing his eyes as he did so and forced himself to go slack against the man's shoulder.

It was hard to tell exactly how long the thief carried him or to where, but eventually the blond could feel his captor stop moving. A sharp whistle pierced the air suddenly, apparently from the thief.

Malik jerked at the noise, opening his eyes in spite of himself. He blanched as he found himself outside of his house, out in the middle of the street. The sound of thundering hooves, the only noise in the night, save for the rustling of the wind, caused him to crane his head around to find its source.

A black horse without a rider, almost unseen among the darkness, charged towards the thief and his captive. It was as if it was planning on running over them, but it didn't. Instead it chose to slow to a stop next to the bandit.

Malik blinked, staring in awe at the beautiful horse. The blond managed to catch a glimpse of the thief's smile as he was moved, hefted onto the dark horse's bare back; slung over sideways like a rolled up rug like the traders he occasionally saw visit his father do with their camels.

Malik grunted in pain before making a gurgled noise, the impact of the horse's back on his stomach not helping his nausea. The thief was apparently oblivious to his captive's plight, or, more likely, just didn't care, as he leapt onto the horse's back, took a hold of the reigns, and quietly commanded the horse to move with a cluck of his tongue and a kick of his heels at its sides. The horse reared back, causing the captive boy to slide back against the thief, before it tore off into the night.

Malik cringed, curling up against the horse as he trembled. He couldn't hold onto anything, so the ride was even more terrifying with each bump and jerk. The blond tried to ignore how the ride made his stomach more and more nauseated, though it was a battle he was quickly loosing. Unable to help himself, he started to cough and dry heave.

The thief freed a hand from the reigns to suddenly grab the blond's cloak and jerk Malik up into a sitting position, although still sideways on the horse's back. "Don't you dare throw up on my horse," the thief growled, glaring at his captive.

Malik cringed and curled up, shaking violently. He bowed his head as he let out a pathetic whimper, wondering what gods he had offended to bring such a thing upon himself. Was this karma for his birth coming around to finally bring him to hell?

The thief kept one hand on the reigns and adjusted his hold to pull his captive close, both so that he could see and so that the blond's movements wouldn't upset his horse.

"Don't you dare throw up on me either," the bandit whispered into Malik's ear.

Malik's only response was a heart-wrenching sob.

Nothing further was said as they rode off into the night.


	2. Chapter Two

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter Two

----

Malik blinked blurrily as his eyes fluttered open, sore and a bit crusted with sand. His vision was clouded with spots of darkness. After a few moments of blinking, his eyesight slowly returned.

He was in a small barn, made of clay. Patches of dry grass covered the floor and corners, the sounds of animals echoing in his ears from the pasture.

The young man was tied in the center of the building, his arms bound and fastened to a rafter along the ceiling so that he was half dangling and half standing. His arms ached, having supported his weight fully while he was asleep.

Malik was thankful he hadn't popped his arms out of socket.

The young boy peered about, trying to see if the thief was around. His entire body ached from the horse ride, his veil proving some protection from the harsh desert, but not much. It was simply too fragile to do much more than hide his face.

Surprisingly enough the bandit was not too far away from him, apparently sleeping comfortably curled up on a pile of dry grass that was used for feed, ominous even while unconscious due to the shadows within the barn.

Malik blinked slowly, and then gasped as he saw his chance. He peered up at the ropes before grinning dryly. His father had tied him up many times before; after having to spend days tied in a closet, the blond had been forced to learn how to escape them or else suffer in silence. His father was never the wiser, and Malik never had to suffer for too long.

Now, the boy was delighted that such a naughty skill might actually prove useful in saving himself from the thief.

With a few quick twists and some squirming, Malik managed to slip his arms free of the rope without breaking them. He rubbed his sore wrists and arms, eying the bandit nervously, before he started to creep towards the barn door.

"Nice try, but you're going to have to do better than that."

Malik jerked up straight and whirled to stare at the source of the voice, his heart leaping into his throat.

The thief was wide-awake, sitting up with an almost casual look on his face as he smirked at his captive. "I didn't say you could leave yet," he admonished.

Panic crossed Malik's face, the young boy stepping back as he rubbed his wrists nervously. His eyes darted to the door before returning to his captor, wondering if he could make it if he ran.

"No, you won't make it," the bandit pointed out, as if he could read the blond's thoughts.

Malik swallowed hard, his throat sore and painful. He trembled as he backed away even more, his mind desperately scrambling for any sort of escape route that sounded at least slightly feasible. His eyes darted around, searching for a window or perhaps a second exit, but didn't dare stray too far from the thief.

"You might as well give up now and save yourself the time and energy," the bandit casually pointed out before stretching his arms with a yawn.

Malik frowned at that, then shivered and leaned against the wall. "...Please let me go," he said quietly, his voice hoarse.

"No," the thief simply replied, uncaring of the lavender-eyed boy's plight.

Malik closed his eyes, pretty much expecting such a response, before he opened them again. Sensing no other alternative, he lunged for the door. Unfortunately the bandit's reflexes served to be faster, as his captor snatched his arm and once again reclaimed him.

"I told you so," the thief smirked cheekily.

Malik cried out in surprise, then flinched and instinctively used his free arm to shield his head from any blows the thief might think to bestow upon him for resisting.

After a few moments the blond was shocked as the thief released his wrist before yawning again. "Are you done?" he asked. "Because I'd like to get something to eat and drink at least before we ride again."

Malik swallowed hard, shying away from the thief. He scuffled into a corner and curled up, sitting on the grass. He didn't respond to the obvious rhetorical question, keeping his shoulders hunched and his head bowed in an obvious defensive but submissive gesture. He wanted to go home. He didn't even care if his father screamed at him.

After a moment of sulking, Malik raised his head to look at the thief.

The bandit seemed to be distracted as he ate some dried meat wrapped in a piece of cloth that he set on his lap and holding what looked to be a full water skin in his opposite hand. Malik tensed slightly and stared, the sight of food and water causing his body to remind him how desperate it was for such things. His throat continued to ache, parched and desperate for liquid, while his stomach growled to voice its own complaint. He couldn't help but think how cruel the thief was being, eating in front of him like that.

His captor didn't seem to care as he eagerly ate his food and took deep gulps from the water skin.

Malik watched, unable to help himself. His stomach grumbled louder and louder as the poor boy licked his lips to wet them. He looked at the water skin longingly; he was used to hunger but at the very least, he'd like some water. After a moment of inner turmoil, Malik made up his mind.

"...M-may... I have some water?" he managed to choke out, his voice still very rough. The tender insides of his throat ached, agitated even by speaking.

The bandit hummed thoughtfully after wiping his mouth, seemingly debating about granting the blond his request, or merely pretending to so as to dangle false hope in front of his captive.

Malik lowered his head, not daring to hope. He gripped his arms tightly in a hug, trying to still his shaking. He supposed it was foolish to ask, as the thief most likely intended to kill him. Why waste water on a dead man?

"Catch," came the bandit's voice suddenly, interrupting his pessimistic thoughts.

Malik looked up sharply, blinking in confusion. "Ah?"

Just as his eyes rose, he saw something come at him. With a yelp he quickly caught the object before it hit him, thinking that the thief was planning on punishing him for his request, but was shocked to find the thrown object to be the water skin. Malik blinked repeatedly, staring at the water skin in shock, before he looked up to stare at the thief in disbelief. Was the water for him?

The bandit arched an eyebrow as he observed the blond blandly. "I thought you were thirsty."

Malik blinked, then gasped and fumbled to open the water skin. He could hear the water inside, so he knew that it wasn't a joke, and proceeded to gulp the contents down in a frenzied manner. It felt so good against his throat!

"Slow down or you'll throw up," the thief pointed out before he resumed eating.

Malik stopped to pant a moment, and then swallowed hard. His throat was mildly sated, pleased with its offering of water. However, his stomach felt neglected. It rumbled noisily, causing the captive boy to flush with embarrassment. He knew it'd be too much to ask for some of the dried meat, so he looked around and spied the feed box for the animals. He moved closer, peering inside. He wasn't picky about food, having learned to live off moldy leftovers. Hence, when he spied the leftover grains of animal feed, Malik felt his stomach jump for joy. He reached in to scoop up a handful, not really caring what it was.

"What are you doing?" the thief asked as he gave the blond an odd look.

"...G-getting something to eat," Malik replied, his voice soft and quiet. Was he not supposed to eat? The captive held the fodder tightly but made no move to eat it until he was sure that his captor wouldn't object, else risk angering the thief.

The thief made a sound between a snort and a grunt. "Put that stuff down," he ordered.

Malik did as he was told, feeling a bit ill. He was to starve...?

"If you wanted something to eat all you had to do was ask," the bandit pointed out as he held up the cloth that contained the strips of meat he was eating.

Malik stared at the thief, not believing his ears. His eyes darted between the meat and the bandit, debating whether or not he should believe it. However, his stomach pointed out it did look good. Timidly and uncertainly, he reached out to take a strip of meat, tensing as he half expected a punishing blow.

His captor did nothing save for drop the meat into his hands, the bandit looking at him what seemed to be curiosity.

Malik eagerly took the food, unable to believe his good fortune, and proceeded to eat the meat. He had never eaten meat before; it was a privilege denied someone such as him. For the thief to offer him such a treat seemed like a dream. It seemed almost contradictory, given the treatment he was receiving.

The bandit didn't say anything as he merely settled back to watch the blond eat.

Malik licked at his fingers as he ate, making sure to catch every piece and taste of the food. The thought of it being his last meal briefly crossed his mind, but he had to admit it would be fitting. It was the best meal he had ever eaten!

"Satisfied?" the thief smirked in amusement.

Malik nodded as he finished up the last strip of meat, and then gulped down the rest of the water from his water skin. He wiped at his mouth, lifting his veil slightly, before returning it to its proper place.

An odd look passed over the thief's features for a moment before it was gone, only lingering long enough for Malik to spot it for the briefest of moments, and make him wonder if he had really seen it at all.

Malik blinked slowly and looked at the thief, wondering what the look was for.

Suddenly the thief stood. "Alright then. Time to go," he announced.

"Huh?" Malik looked up sharply, holding the water skin tightly in his hands. "W-what?"

The bandit eyed his captive. "We're leaving. Are you going to cooperate or do I have to tie you up again?"

Malik stared at the thief, reality suddenly sinking in once more. "L-leaving...? T-to where!?"

The thief smirked viciously.

"You'll see."

----

The sun blazed brilliantly in the noon sky, scorching down on the desert sands. The heat that was created by the merciless sun was terrible that day, making traveling through the desert that much more difficult. It was too easy to die of thirst while traversing through the hot deserts of Egypt on such a day, which made finding an oasis as much of a treasure as the Pharaoh's gold.

The thief couldn't help but stop to admire the sparkling crystal clear pool of water that made a small patch of land that would otherwise be just sand into a small lush paradise full of grass, trees, and other plants. It was an ideal spot to rest until the sun was lower in the sky and the heat had gone down; the fact that such a place contained much needed water to keep them from dying of thirst went without saying.

The sight was lost on Malik, who had finally fallen asleep after the long ride. It was uncomfortable, but the lack of bonds made it a lot easier to pass out from exhaustion.

The bandit glanced at his captive before gently nudging him. "Oi, wake up," he said lowly.

"Nnnf...?" Malik jumped slightly, blinking blurrily.

The thief slid off of his horse's back then reached up to pull Malik down carefully even as the blond was still trying to wake up. "We're going to rest here for a while," the criminal explained.

As its riders were removed, the dark horse eagerly went to the water and began to drink, heedless of waiting for any permission to do as such.

Malik blinked again, rubbing his eyes, and then gasped at the feeling of hot sand against his feet. "Ah!"

The thief eyed Malik before moving him onto the slightly cooler dirt and grass that surrounded the oasis. "Drink as much as you can, but don't do it too fast or you'll just throw it back up again," he ordered before moving to kneel down by the pool.

Malik nodded weakly, keeping his head bowed, before he moved towards the water. He knelt down and moved forward to scoop up water, sipping at it eagerly despite the difficulties with his veil, but forcing himself to go as slow as possible. He delighted in the feeling of the cold water dripping down his sore, bruised wrists. It felt so soothing...

A sudden splash from beside him caught the captive's attention just a moment before droplets of water splattered onto his face.

Malik yelped in surprise as he fumbled back, losing his balance and landing roughly on the sand.

As the surprised blond recovered, he noticed that it was the thief who had splashed him, although apparently not on purpose, as the other man had seemingly dunked his head into the water to cool down.

Malik blinked repeatedly at the thief before he leaned forward to resume his drink, wishing he could take off his hood and do the same. However, he knew it was just not possible. He had to remain fully covered; even when Isis wasn't around, he had to stay inside. No one must ever see him. The simple fact that he was outside was bad enough; to allow the gods to see him unclothed would be unthinkable!

"Hah!" the thief gasped as he straightened to emerge his head from the water, obviously pleased at how it cooled him down. He glanced over at his captive for a moment before tilting his head. "You might want to take a bath to cool down," he suggested. "Wearing all those robes is probably baking you."

"I, I can't do that," Malik replied meekly as he kept his gaze on his lap. "It's alright... I'm fine."

"Don't be stupid," the thief chided. "Get in there and cool yourself off before you die from the heat." With that he suddenly snatched off the shy boy's hood.

Malik yelped and ducked, covering his head quickly with his hands to try and hide his shame. His hair flew out, glistening in the sun all silky and smooth like spun gold. Even as a slave hidden under a hood, he always brushed his hair with a stiff horse brush. Not that his father knew; it was simply easier to keep his hair brushed.

There was silence for a moment, as Malik awaited some terrible fate for his head to be exposed while outside, before he felt the thief's hand reach out to touch his golden locks. "Spun gold?" came his captor's quietly perplexed yet awed voice.

"A-ah?" Malik peeked through his fingers at the thief, confused. What gold? He gave a start when his eyes fell on the thief, now getting a very good view that he had been denied before under the shadows and night.

The thief, who had seemed so massive, so large, dark, and horrible in the dark, seemed to look almost like a normal person in the light, and yet there were certainly things about him that made him extraordinary.

The first thing to catch Malik's eye was the bandit's hair; it was long and wild, but made from pure silver, which looked quite complementary to Malik's own gold hair. While may have just been white and the fact that the thief's hair was wet and the sunlight was playing off it just right that made it seem silver, it was certainly what Malik had mistaken for silver jewelry the previous night when he first caught a glimpse of his captor.

The rest of the thief's features, while not as striking as the hair, were very pleasing in their own right. His eyes were bright silver, virtually perfect in matching his hair. His tanned body seemed to be perfectly sculpted with well-defined muscles that obviously came from a lot of work.

Malik stared, eyes widening as he continued to peek through his fingers, distorting his "hideous" face from the thief's (and the gods') scrutiny.

The bandit gave Malik an odd look as he tilted his head, the wet silver hair clinging to his face in a manner that seemed almost casually sensual. "Why are you hiding behind your hands?" he asked curiously before suddenly snatching away the veil the other boy wore, despite the blond's attempts to keep it close to his hidden face.

"Eeek-!" Malik ducked his head, trying to hide himself by shielding his face with his arms. "You mustn't do that-!"

The thief blinked, surprised at that. "Why not?" he asked, curious, before leaning in close. "I caught sight of your face before and I know it's not deformed."

"It's an abomination!" Malik squeaked as he shielded his face with one arm while fumbling for his hood with another. "My presence alone is offending the gods... To bare my face would be the highest insult!"

The thief was silent at that before snatched up Malik's wrists and suddenly pulled them close, leaving the blond's face bare for all to see. "I doubt that," he said lowly, his voice firm, as he gazed into the other boy's lavender eyes.

Malik's eyes widened drastically as he paled, tensing. His mind locked up, unable to comprehend what to do or say. He half expected the gods' wrath to rain down upon him in a fit of rage, killing him horribly for such an insult.

They remained that way for a few moments, gazing into one another's eyes; lavender filled with fear, and silver filled with defiance. Finally, the thief leaned back with a smirk. "See?" he said smugly.

"T-that... that doesn't mean anything..." Malik whispered, weakly. "Perhaps they are merciful today..."

"Then for today you can bathe in peace," the thief retorted, still quite smug.

"Bathe? In the water?!" Malik's eyes couldn't get any bigger. "And contaminate it!?"

The bandit eyed Malik before he quite unexpectedly shoved the blond into the pool of water.

Malik cried out as he fell backwards into the water, then coughed and sputtered as he flailed about desperately.

The thief blinked before he quickly slipped off the rest of his clothes except for his sarong and jumped into the water to grab Malik and stop the other boy's flailing.

Malik gagged and choked, hacking up water as he trembled. His clothes clung to him, weighing him down drastically. Combined with the fact that he could swim like a rock, he had no chance of retaining any dignity.

The thief pulled Malik close before returning to the edge of the water and pulling the both of them out. "I suppose I should've guessed you couldn't swim from what you had said," he commented as he sat with the blond in his lap.

Malik simply sputtered in response, trying to wipe his hair out of his eyes as his robes felt like a dead weight.

"Are you okay?" the bandit asked, as he looked the other boy over. After a moment he reached out to remove the soaked robes, perhaps to ease the lavender eyed boy's restricted breathing.

Malik squeaked and curled up instinctively, shivering. "I'm fine... I'm fine..." he coughed, weakly.

The thief nodded and patted Malik's back. "Good." However, that didn't seem to deter him from removing the soaked cloaks.

Malik flinched, too weak to protest, as the thief removed his robes. His body felt immediate relief, both from the weight and from the heat, but the poor boy couldn't help but tremble. He was completely exposed; his father would have killed him if he knew.

The silver haired man paused to admire his captive's nude form as he set the soaked clothing aside. However a frown formed on his face as his eyes traveled over the numerous terrible wounds that covered the other boy's lithe and otherwise perfect body. "Those wounds need treatment," he commented. "You should get in the shallow part of the water and clean them when you recover."

"T-treatment?" Malik repeated, feeling rather dizzy. Was the thief teasing him?

"Don't you know what medicine is?" the bandit asked after a slight pause of disbelief.

"Y-yes, of course," Malik assured the thief. "But to suggest that it'd be used on ME? ...Is... Is that a joke?"

The criminal gave his captive an odd look. "Does it look like I'm joking?"

"Well, no, but..." Malik fidgeted. "But surely...?"

The thief gave a frustrated and irritated sigh before he leaned in close to gaze hard into the other boy's lavender eyes. "I don't care what sort of insane rules you used to follow, but you can just forget everything you've been taught. None of that matters now."

Malik tensed as he stared back at the thief. Surely he didn't mean that... "N-none of it?"

The bandit nodded then leaned back with a grunt. "All that matters now is what I tell you."

"...You... you're not going to let me go?" Malik asked, weakly. He had hopped that maybe the thief would drop him off at a village; but then, he supposed such thinking was foolish.

"Maybe," the silver haired man casually responded as he stretched his arms over his head, which caused the muscles in his exposed chest to ripple. "I haven't decided yet."

"But if you let me go... then my father..." Malik looked down. "He would be very angry at me if he knew..."

The bandit eyed his captive for a moment before answering. "You don't have to worry about that."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Malik looked up slightly, in spite of himself.

"Because regardless of what I decide..." A decidedly sinister smile appeared on the thief's face. "You're never going to see your home ever again."

"E-eeeh?" Malik stared at the thief, dumbfounded. What did he mean-!?

"Ready to clean yourself now?" the thief asked as he tilted his head slightly, changing the subject altogether.

Malik started at the change of subject and just stared at the thief.

The bandit arched an eyebrow at that look. "What? Don't you know how to clean yourself either?"

"Er, father just... dumped a bucket on me." Malik replied, sheepishly.

The thief blinked then shook his head, slightly dumbfounded. "Sounds like a nice father."

"Yes, I know." Malik nodded, missing the sarcasm completely. "He said I needed to be clean once and a while. Sometimes he would even use lukewarm water!"

The silver haired man just stared at the blond as if he were insane.

"And if I was really good, he'd let me use some of the leftover soap from cleaning the house!" Malik continued eagerly, wanting to let the thief know how kind his father was to him in spite of the punishments.

The thief just stared at his captive.

Malik blinked, finally noticing the thief's rather unimpressed response. He tilted his head, as he looked chastised; he must have messed up. "Did I... do something wrong?"

After a moment then bandit shook his head. "I'm just... amazed... at how beaten down you are to think someone like that is great," he said slowly, his expression one of disgust.

"I... don't understand," Malik was completely confused. Why was the thief disgusted with him? Did he disapprove of his father's mercy?

"I guess you wouldn't," the bandit sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair to move the damp strands away from his eyes. "You're even worse than the rest of the sheep that blindly follow the Pharaoh."

"Sheep?" Malik furrowed his eyebrows before his eyes widened. "I know what sheep are. Father used to have some. They kept the barn very warm because of their wool."

The thief blinked and stared blankly at the blond before he made a frustrated grunt as he scratched his head. "That's not what I meant."

"I would use them as a pillow sometimes," Malik continued, musing. "They were much softer than the dry grass... and they didn't roll over on me like the cow did." The blond paused, and then beamed brightly. "We have a cow, you know. It was a gift to my father from one of his rich merchant friends. It came from a far away country!"

"You slept in a barn?" the bandit asked after a moment, incredulous.

"Yes," Malik nodded. "I couldn't very well sleep in the HOUSE!"

The thief gave the blond an odd look. "Why not?"

Now it was Malik's turn to give the thief an odd look. "Abominations can't sleep in the house. Even I know that." The only reason he could when Isis came to visit was because she was a priestess in training; thus, her divinity purified and counteracted him.

The thief blinked at that. "Abominations?" He then made a face. "What do you mean?"

"I'm an abomination," Malik responded, matter-of-factly. "I told you that already."

"Just what about you makes you an abomination?" the thief pressed, obviously disbelieving.

"...Everything?" Malik blinked repeatedly. What was the thief driving at? "My very existence alone..."

"Just HOW are you an abomination?" the bandit pressed as he leaned in closer, not satisfied with his captive's answer.

"I was born!" Malik squeaked, eyes widening slightly.

"Why would that make you an abomination?" the thief asked, eying the blond suspiciously.

"I... Because my father said so..." Malik muttered.

The silver-eyed man blinked then grunted, irritated. "Your father is a moron."

"N-no, my father is a very respected man," Malik whimpered. "He should know what's garbage."

The thief obviously didn't believe that for one moment. "I don't care if your father's the Pharaoh, he's still a moron." He paused for a moment then smirked. "Actually, if your father was the Pharaoh I'd think even less of him."

Malik looked rather confused and dumbfounded, uncertain of what to say as he shifted nervously in the thief's lap. He didn't know what he had done wrong but the conversation was going rather badly.

"Now, if you're done repeating nonsense, go clean your wounds," the bandit said as he pointed at the water.

"N-nonsense? What... nonsense?" Malik asked, hesitantly.

"You're so brainwashed you wouldn't believe me even if I told you," the thief explained before nudging the boy in his lap slightly. "Now get yourself cleaned while I get us something to eat."

"I'm... sorry?" Malik knew one basic rule: when in doubt, apologize.

The thief blinked, surprised, then looked at the blond oddly. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I... made you upset." Malik replied.

"If you want to keep me from being upset, clean your wounds and stop spouting nonsense," the silver-eyed man retorted.

Malik stared at the thief, very confused, but managed to nod weakly before heading towards the oasis waters.

The bandit nodded before he stood and stretched out the stiffness from his joints.

Malik slipped into the water, gasping at the coldness of it. The oasis must have been fed by a spring; that was the only explanation for how frigid it felt to his body.

The water felt so good against his skin, washing away the sand and grime. The blond shivered as he kneeled into the water, content to just soak for the moment, before he splashed water in his face. The boy then dunked his entire head in the water before flicking it back with a gasp, hair whipping about as droplets splattered everywhere.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the thief watching him appreciatively, but he feigned not to notice. The bandit was most likely making sure Malik didn't bolt.

The blond shook his head as he ran his fingers through his silk hair, making sure there were no tangles, before he scooped it all up in his hand and hefted it up to expose his neck. He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. It felt so good to relax for a moment...

His muscles were aching and he was so tired, but the frigid water made sure to keep him awake even if his fear was currently at low levels. Maybe he was wrong about the thief; he was being very nice, despite being a criminal and most likely a murderer.

Malik hummed to himself as he rubbed the sand out of his skin and hair, enjoying his momentary taste of freedom. He might have to resume wearing his robes again, but they'd at least be slightly clean due to the dunking.

"What did he mean?" Malik thought as he cleaned himself in the water. "What did he mean by... not letting me go home ever?"

After a moment, Malik paused and glanced about. The thief was being very quiet...

The reason for that was quickly realized as the silver haired man was nowhere in sight. While there were few places one could go, there were a number of bushes and trees in the oasis that could conceal a person; perhaps the bandit had wandered off to do something beyond them.

Malik blinked, and then moved towards the edge of the water. He grabbed his loincloth from the folds of the soaking robe, which he quickly put on, before walking towards the edge of the oasis. Did the thief abandon him?

It seemed unlikely, however, as the thief's horse was nearby, idly munching on some of the grass near the water. While the bandit might abandon him, it was unlikely that something as valuable as a trained horse would be left behind.

After a moment, Malik stopped and itched his cheek. Maybe he shouldn't look for the thief and instead escape? It seemed like as good a chance as any...

The blond craned his head about, chewing on his lower lip. But which way had they come? Which way would lead home...?

At that moment, Malik started. He saw a moving shadow on the dunes, heading towards the oasis. The blond blinked repeatedly. What could that be? People? Perhaps a traveler heading to the oasis?

Malik's heart nearly leapt at that as he moved towards the shadows, planning on intercepting them. Maybe they could help him! As he drew closer and closer to the shadows, they became more and more defined...

And most definitely not human.

Malik stopped short as his eyes widened, finding himself staring in the hungry eyes of a black jackal.

The jackal flicked its ears before its hackles raised, lips curling up to display numerous teeth.

Malik's heart leapt into his throat as he fumbled back, shaking. He had never seen a jackal before, but growling and pointed teeth could only mean one thing: danger.

A second growl, followed by a third, issued as two more jackals appeared at the first's flanks. Malik started to tremble as he stepped back, eyes very wide. Much to the blond's dismay, more and more of the growling dark creatures were appearing as they rounded a large sand dune.

And they all looked hungry.

Malik whimpered as he fumbled back. Even if he ran back to the oasis, they'd catch him... and if they didn't, he wouldn't have any protection there to begin with!

The jackals slowly loomed towards the blond, apparently sensing his fear, as they started to circle in for the kill.

Malik glanced about at the jackals, his shaking increasing. He didn't have anything to protect himself with... Not even a rock!

Much to horror and dismay he was quickly cut off from returning to the oasis as the pack of jackals moved to surround him on all sides.

"A-aaah..." Malik's breathing increased as he looked about wildly, for any way of escape. All he found were rows of teeth and glaring jackals.

One of the jackals lunged forward to snap at Malik's ankle. The boy jerked back just in time, letting out a scream of fear as he fell on his rear. The other jackals seemed enticed by Malik's reactions, their growling and slobbering increasing.

Malik fumbled to his feet, gasping, then kicked some of the sand at the jackals to try and discourage them. A jackal sputtered as it was hit with sand and sneezed, then snarled and lunged again. The poor boy screamed as he fell backwards, kicking the jackal back as he fell to the ground once more. Sensing the boy's plight, all of the jackals snarled and lunged towards the hapless blond.

Just as Malik was about to be torn apart by the vicious jackals he was suddenly snatched by one of his flailing arms and yanked upwards.

Malik let out a startled scream, unable to do much else.

Surprisingly he was pulled onto a warm surface as a shout was heard beside him. "Back off, mutts!"

A loud bark suddenly cut off by a high whimper was heard before it sounded as if the jackals began to retreat.

"E-eh?" Malik recognized that voice!

Jackals yipped and howled as they darted across the sand, tails between their legs. All save one, which was completely immobile with a dagger lodged through its skull, staining the sand red.

Malik stared at the jackal corpse, and then gaped as he realized he was sprawled out upon the back of the thief's trained horse. That could only mean one thing...

"Are you okay?" the thief asked as he helped Malik sit up and face him. He then glanced over his captive's almost naked body, apparently to see if there were any new injuries upon it.

"You were gone! You disappeared and I thought you left me and so I went to look and I saw shadows and I thought they were people and it wasn't people and THEY WANTED TO EAT ME _WHAT WERE THOSE?!_" Malik gushed, his heart still racing. He gasped for breath as he shook; his body stressed all over again. How many near death experiences was he going to have?!

The thief blinked blankly at the blond for a moment as he absorbed what he was told. "Calm down!" he ordered after a moment as he put his hands on Malik's shoulders. "I was just looking for food." He paused for a moment then gave the frightened boy an odd look. "You don't know what jackals are?"

Malik shook his head vigorously as he held his hands over his chest, as if he were afraid his heart would leap out and escape.

"Did you at least recognize them from drawings of Anubis?" the thief asked, still eying the other boy oddly.

"I'm n-not allowed to l-look upon the gods..." Malik swallowed hard, gulping for air as he tried to calm down.

Again the bandit looked at the blond oddly, but decided not to say anything else. Suddenly he slipped off of the horse's back and retrieved his knife before grabbing the fallen jackal.

"T-they're gone...?" Malik whimpered, shaking badly.

"They're smart enough to leave when one of their pack gets killed," the thief commented off-handedly before he took a hold of the reigns and started to lead his horse back towards the oasis.

Malik sighed with relief, though it was very shaky.

"Have you EVER been outside by yourself?" the thief asked as he gave the shaken blond a sideways gaze.

"N-no," Malik shook his head. "Never..."

"Were you just locked up in some tiny room all your life like a prisoner?" the thief asked curiously, a look of disgust on his face.

"No, I just... stayed inside the house or the barn," Malik muttered, slowly relaxing. "I just wasn't allowed to go anywhere else. This... this is the first time I've ever left the house... ever..."

The thief eyed Malik oddly. "Is that right?"

Malik nodded, weakly. "And the... first time I've been without my robes, too..."

The thief paused as they returned to the oasis then looked Malik over. He didn't say anything for a few moments before an enigmatic expression appeared on his face. "You know, this is the first time I've ever been convinced that the person I've kidnapped actually was better off being taken away," he muttered.

"...I don't understand...?" Malik stared at the thief. How was any of this better than him being at home?

The thief dropped the jackal's lifeless carcass before reaching out to help Malik off his horse's back. "Get back in the water and get that sand out of your wounds," he ordered then gazed sharply at his captive. "I don't want you to even THINK about wandering off again."

Malik squeaked and flinched under the gaze, then quickly scuffled to the water or else risk the thief's wrath.

The bandit nodded, pleased, before he kneeled down beside the jackal.

Malik slinked back into the water again, shaking slightly. He was very frazzled, though that was to be expected. After being threatened by the thief and then jackals, the boy idly wondered if the spring itself would open up into a gaping maw and try to devour him. He wouldn't be surprised.

The blond sighed; he didn't know what to do or think. He wanted to go home, as he at least knew how to act there. The thief was treating him strangely and the poor boy had no idea how to respond.

It was a short while later when Malik had become slightly relaxed again when the scent of smoke reached him. Malik looked up, sniffing slightly, and peered over towards the thief.

It seemed as if the silver haired man had started a fire and was cooking slabs of meat, presumably from the jackal, on sticks. He glanced up, as he seemed to notice that he was being observed and looked towards the blond.

Malik looked away quickly, feeling rather embarrassed. He doubted any of that meat was for him.

"You don't like looking at raw meat?" the thief asked curiously.

"N-no, I... I just shouldn't stare at your food." Malik replied, weakly.

"You don't want any?" the bandit asked, his tone incredulous. "I thought you were hungry."

"...That doesn't matter," Malik mumbled. "It's not for me so I shouldn't stare..."

"What was that?" the thief asked.

"I... I said that it doesn't matter if I'm hungry or if I want it," Malik repeated, a little louder. "It's not for me so I shouldn't stare."

"What do you mean?" The thief sounded slightly agitated. "The reason why I'm cooking it is because I thought you would be squeamish about eating meat raw."

"B-but isn't it YOUR food?" Malik glanced at the thief, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed. He looked like ever the obedient servant, not daring to appear willful or demanding.

"It's OUR food," the thief retorted. "I barely bother cooking unless I have to."

"I... I don't understand," Malik turned to face the thief, looking very confused. He found that the thief was doing that to him a lot. "I could imagine some of the scraps, if you were feeling generous... but-!"

"There's too much for me to eat in one sitting and I don't feel like drying it to take with us," the bandit explained as he crossed his arms. "So why shouldn't we share?"

"I... is that a trick question?" Malik looked bewildered.

The thief blinked before letting out an agitated huff. "Look, if you don't want to eat it, just say so."

"I... I don't understand," Malik whimpered; he was upsetting the thief. "Y-you're acting like I have a SAY in ANYTHING!"

"Because you do!" the bandit snapped. "If you want to eat, then eat! I'm not going to shove it down your throat for you."

Malik stared at the bandit, completely baffled, and then bowed his head. "I'm sorry..."

"Do you want to eat it or not?" the thief asked, ignoring the blond's apology.

"I, well..." Malik paused, and then bowed his head again. "I'll... I'll take whatever you don't want...!"

The silver haired man eyed Malik, although his hair looked whiter now that it was dry, then grunted. "Get over here and eat," he ordered.

Malik did as he was told, hurrying over to the thief's side before sitting down on a patch of grass.

His captor grabbed one of the sticks that held a large chunk of the jackal meat and shoved it in front of Malik's face. "Here. Eat."

Malik yelped, and then took the stick quickly. He glanced at the thief, getting the distinct impression he upset his captor again, and then mumbled an apology before proceeding to eat.

The thief eyed the blond for a moment before he snatched another piece of meat and tore into it like a ravenous beast, splattering blood about.

Malik jumped and blinked repeatedly, eyes widening as he stared at the thief's ravenous and uncivilized manner of eating. He could almost swear the thief had fangs!

The bandit didn't seem to care about his manners, or rather his lack thereof, as he ripped the meat apart with his sharp teeth and devoured it like a wild animal.

Malik swallowed hard, and then continued eating his own food while keeping his eyes on his lap.

"Something wrong?" the thief asked through a mouthful of meat.

Malik shook his head vigorously.

The bandit blinked, eying the blond for a moment, before he shrugged and resumed eating.

Malik finished off the meat on his stick, not the least bit disturbed by the fact that he was eating jackal meat, and then licked his fingers to get every last taste.

"Good?" the thief asked after cleaning the blood off himself and licking his lips.

Malik nodded as he sucked on one of his fingers.

"Are you hungry or thirsty at all?" the silver haired man asked curiously as he watched his captive intently.

"Mmmmf?" Malik looked up, the finger still in his mouth.

The thief paused as he looked at Malik silently for a few moments, his expression hard to decipher. Finally he shook his head slightly, as if to clear it. "Are you finished eating and getting water?"

Malik nodded slowly, sucking on his finger slightly; he could still taste the juices of the meat.

The thief continued to stare at the blond, apparently distracted for some reason. "Good..."

Malik finally took his finger out of his mouth, licking his lips. Still the thief continued to gaze at the other boy, watching his every action with particular interest.

"Hm?" Malik tilted his head, lowering his hand. Why was the thief watching him so intently?

The silver-eyed man blinked then shook his head slightly. "Nothing," he muttered as he looked away.

Malik blinked, and then stared. The thief was blushing.

The bandit coughed then leaned against the back of his hand as he looked away, apparently trying to discreetly hide the slight hue in his cheeks. "Do you want to rest a while before we continue?"

"Continue? To where?" Malik asked.

"I have someplace I want to show you..." the thief muttered cryptically as he glanced over at the other boy.

Malik had a bad feeling.


	3. Chapter Three

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter Three

----

The sun slowly started to set in the desert as evening came, casting the sands in a golden red light. Malik slumped forward, exhausted from the long ride and simply too tired to even bother holding himself up anymore. His eyes felt sore, begging for sleep yet struggling to stay open. His muscles ached all over, reminding him constantly of his situation.

Even if he had managed to get sleep, he would only have dreamed of misery. He was so exhausted, tired of riding on the horse and tired of his ordeal. The incident at the barn and the oasis seemed like naught but a distant memory; he began to wonder if they even happened.

Just as the poor boy was close to nodding off, the thief finally brought the dark horse to a halt. Malik jerked awake, blinking slowly, before he looked around wearily. He paled at the sight of his surroundings, his breathing hitching as his heart leapt into his throat.

They had come to a stop in the middle of a dead village.

The village seemed to have, at one time, been quite large and was surrounded on virtually all sides by a sheer cliff face, giving ideal protection from the harsh sunlight and lessening the sometimes unbearable desert heat. It may have been a beautiful place once, perhaps even rivaling the beauty of the Pharaoh's city, or fairly ordinary even if large, but the sheer amount of devastation made it nearly impossible to tell which it may have been. Not one building remained intact, and most seemed to be no longer standing, leaving many piles of brick and rubble scattered about over cracked and brittle ground. It was almost as if a large natural disaster had hit the small valley the village resided in, stealing it of every trace of life and leaving nothing but a brutal and unforgiving ruin. There weren't even any signs of water or plant life among the devastation. Not even sand from outside of the canyon seemed to dare wish to intrude upon the desolate village.

It was as if the very ground they stood upon were cursed by the Gods themselves.

Corpses, or rather the skeletal remains of dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of people lay scattered about amongst the rubble, as ruined as the village itself. They were robbed of their once living flesh and denied a proper burial as the unforgiving sun bleached them a stark white.

The air was thick, and there was a slight mist that covered the ground, although it was more prominent when one's gaze was turned towards the heavens. Slim gray clouds seemed to enshroud the cursed village, trying to block out the sun, or maybe merely serve as a warning that the gods' mercy would never shine upon such a place.

Malik stared in absolute horror, his eyes wide. His face drained of all color, causing the purple bags under his eyes to become incredibly visible. He felt like the very breath had been yanked out of his lungs, his body forgetting how to breathe. His body took to shaking as it became all too clear to him what the thief had in store for him, if the skeletal remains were any clue as to what his fate would be.

"Welcome to Kuru Eruna," the thief practically purred in Malik's ear, the noise startling the frightened boy as it broke the silence.

Malik twitched slightly as he felt his nausea return a hundred-fold, his breathing becoming more and more hysterical. His hands trembled as he gripped his arms, not daring to hold onto anything else.

A soft, almost sobbing whimper escaped the terrified boy as he shook his head weakly. He didn't want to know what the thief intended to do. He wanted to go home. His body ached, his mind ached; he didn't think there was any part of him that didn't ache.

The shivering boy snapped his eyes shut. He didn't want to see the village anymore nor the thief's sneering smile, least of all his own demise. How would he die? Would he be hung, beaten to death, or simply stabbed? Perhaps he'd be stoned, as there were plenty of THOSE to go around. Whatever the case may be, he knew it would be the end for him. He didn't know where his soul would go, but at least he had the consolation of going to see his mother. Still, that didn't make him feel any better. The blond began to mutter, trying to pray to any god who would listen for protection and (in the worst case scenario) guidance through the afterlife.

"What was that?" the thief asked after hearing his captive begin to mutter to himself, his voice low and curious.

"P-please forgive me," Malik whispered as he kept his eyes snapped shut. "For whatever sin I have committed... that prompted you to send your servant to punish me..." This had to be the punishment of the gods his father had been waiting for. The thief had been sent by the gods to slay him for his crimes of existence. It was the only explanation.

"You think the gods sent me to kill you?" his captor asked, one eyebrow quirked.

Malik hiccupped, trying to resist the sobs that were trying to force their way from his lithe form. He nodded weakly, his eyes starting to sting as pools of tears formed. This may have been his punishment but he couldn't help but think it was entirely unfair; and even if it wasn't punishment sent by the gods, it was definitely an ironic and cruel thing for fate to do to him!

"You might as well stop praying," the thief pointed out, an odd yet frightening smile on his face. "The gods help no one in Kuru Eruna."

Malik trembled as he started to hyperventilate, his fear threatening to drown him in his tears. His sobs started to bubble out before he bowed his head, covering his face with his hands. "I DIDN'T MEAN IT!" he practically wailed.

The bandit blinked at the outburst, taken back momentarily. "Didn't mean what?" he asked once he recovered from his surprise.

"I DIDN'T MEAN TO BE BORN!" Malik screamed, holding his head as he trembled. He couldn't hold the sobs back anymore as he felt the tears pour down his cheeks. "IT JUST _HAPPENED!_"

The thief didn't say anything, his smile disappearing altogether, as he stared at the wailing blond before him, stunned.

Malik continued to sob, holding his head as he shook violently. He couldn't stop himself, finally overwhelmed from the stress, fear, and pain that filled his mind. He didn't want to die, but apparently everyone else in the world wanted him to! Malik felt himself start to dry heave, his stomach threatening to force up his last few meals unless he calmed himself down. The boy covered his mouth, shaking violently, and desperately wished his heart to just stop right then; he could die quietly and without much pain, but he knew no such wish would happen.

Suddenly he found his mind snapped back to reality as his chin was grabbed and tilted upwards.

Malik yelped in surprise, almost falling backwards. What had happened!?

He was immediately startled to find that thief was giving him a piercing gaze; the look so intense it was as if the other man was seeing into his very soul.

Malik sucked in a gasp of air, his eyes widening drastically. He tensed, uncertain of what was happening, as his silken blond locks clung to his sweaty brow. His skin glimmered bronze in the sun, his gold hair flowing free. His breathing hitched as he held as still as he possibly could. What was the thief doing? What was he looking at so intently? Did he intend to watch him like this as he killed him?

The thief simply gazed at him.

Malik blinked slowly, tears still trickling down his cheeks. He breathed heavily, gulping for air. He didn't know what the thief was doing, nor did he want to know. It was most likely something awful!

"You can calm down," the thief said as he took the reigns, his arms going to either side of the blond sitting before him. "You're not going to die."

"H-huh?" Malik stared at the thief, his eyes wide. He couldn't possibly have heard what he thought he did!

"You're not going to die," the bandit repeated as he gazed at his captive.

"I... I don't understand," Malik whimpered after a moment, his eyes watering even more. Was the thief teasing him now?

His captor didn't answer as he directed the dark horse to start moving again.

"W-what-!?" Malik instinctively grabbed the thief's arms, tensing as he half expected to fall over. "W-where are we going!?"

The thief gazed at the panicked boy, the look piercing and a little frightening. "I'll give you two choices. I could either drop you off in some oasis in the middle of the desert so far from home that you'll never get back, or you give yourself to me."

Malik was dumbfounded. His eyes widened to the size of saucers as he looked at the thief as if he had just sprouted a second head. After a moment of struggling, the blond finally managed to find his voice. "G-give myself to you...? W-what does that mean?"

"That you'll turn your life over to me." The thief grinned in a slightly wicked manner. "Essentially I'll own you."

Malik couldn't believe what he was hearing. The thief was offering him a choice between death and slavery! Which did he fear more: dying or whatever the thief had in mind for him? The blond shivered, and then held his head weakly. It wasn't a hard choice, in the end. No matter how much he feared the thief, he was still much more afraid of death. "I... I don't want to die," he managed to say, his voice breaking.

"I told you, you're not going to die," the bandit said as he eyed his captive.

Now Malik knew he was being mocked. Given the incident with the jackals, both the thief and Malik knew quite well how he'd fair on his own in the middle of the desert. The thief's offer, no matter how much he dressed it up, was still slavery or death.

He had absolutely no choice.

Malik swallowed hard, and then looked up at the thief, feeling sick to his stomach all over again. "I'll... give myself to you... though all I can do is clean..."

The thief smirked wickedly. "That's fine."

Malik had a sinking suspicion it wasn't fine. He flinched and bowed his head, wondering what sort of situation he had just sold himself into. Given his luck, he'd most likely end up as a bed whore to the thief. That thought gave him shivers.

"What's your name?" the bandit suddenly asked.

"Ah? ... M-my name is Malik..." Malik replied, his voice breaking.

The thief smirked and said nothing further as the two of them rode away from the cursed village.

----

Malik gasped for breath as he fumbled along the mountain path, his feet aching painfully. He was seriously reconsidering his previous words at the cursed town; with each passing stub of his toe and twist of his injured ankle, the poor blond had to wonder if living was really worth the constant pain and horror that the thief was offering him.

The only saving grace for the weary boy was that the sun did not bear down on him harshly; they were in a large canyon filled with sheer and irregularly shaped cliff sides, some of which serving as a natural cover from the sun, which cast the canyon mostly in shadow. There were also many caves that could be spied everywhere, but no one seemed to occupy them save for an occasional animal since Malik had yet to see anyone but the two of them in the canyon.

"You're not going to faint are you?" the thief asked as he paused to gaze back at Malik. He didn't seem phased by walking the path at all, which hinted that had to have made the trek many times before.

"No, I... I..." Malik fumbled, then collapsed against a large rock, panting. "Please... just a minute... just a minute to catch my breath..."

"Fine," the thief sighed, obviously irritated, before he sat down on another sizable rock nearby to wait for the lavender-eyed boy to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry," Malik whimpered, pressing his forehead against the rock. Though he knew he was saved at the moment, he could only guess what could happen if the thief grew tired of him. He was still on fragile ground, a fact that made him all the more terrified.

The man looked at Malik critically, his gaze particularly falling on the tired boy's feet. "How badly do your feet hurt?" he asked suddenly as he noted how bloody and bruised the blond's feet were due to the fact that the kidnapped boy didn't wear any sort of footwear.

"N-nothing serious..." Malik shifted to hide his feet under his long tunic, not wanting to appear useless to the thief. "I've... had worse..."

The thief stood and walked over to Malik, gazing down at him. "Can you walk again after you've rested a while?" His eyes then narrowed. "And don't lie because you're scared. I'd rather not have to remove your feet later because of infection or have to treat a broken ankle."

"I... I can..." Malik swallowed; it was the truth, he could walk. However, it was going to be incredibly painful and slow. Still, discomfort was no excuse for not trying. "...I... I have a high tolerance for this sort of thing..."

"Alright then..." The man sat down on the rock Malik leaned against and watched the blond, waiting for the lavender-eyed boy to recover.

Malik shifted into a sitting position, hiding his feet under his clothing. He panted, his face very pale and the bags under his eyes even more defined, but he was determined not to complain. Those who complained were simply in the way; and those who were in the way, were useless and expendable.

The thief continued to gaze at Malik, his eyes boring into the tired boy. He seemed to take in each detail of the blond critically and had an expression that seemed to be calculating something.

Malik wiped at his forehead, his panting slowly easing up, before he covered his face with both hands and let out a shuddering sigh. He hadn't slept in well over twenty-four hours, save an occasional hour or two on the horse and in the barn. Such fatigue, combined with stress, wasn't doing much for his state of mind.

Suddenly he was surprised to feel a pair of arms wrapping around his waist before he was picked up off the ground.

"Ah-!?" Malik jerked up, eyes wide. "H-hah-!?"

The thief looked calmly back at his slave as he held the blond in arms. "You're exhausted and injured," he pointed out. "You won't be able to go any farther on your own without sleep and treatment."

Malik blinked slowly up at the thief, very confused. Why would his kidnapper show him any kindness? Or was it simply concern that Malik wouldn't be able to perform any of his new 'duties' like this? "I... I... I'm sorry..."

The man merely grunted in response as he resumed walking down the trail, not too terribly hindered by carrying Malik. Most likely it was because he had carried other ill-gotten gains along the very same path before.

Malik hung his head, eyes watering. He was already off on a bad foot with his new 'master'. The thief must have already been reconsidering his offer to spare Malik's life.

"You might as well go to sleep," the bandit suddenly said.

Malik looked up quickly before averting his eyes. "I'm sorry... please; I'm not a burden..."

"No, you're exhausted and injured," the thief retorted.

"I..." Malik blinked at that, then shivered and hugged himself. "I'll do my best... I swear..."

"Of course you will," the man said, eying the blond. "But when you're not close to pushing yourself to death."

Malik closed his eyes, shivering. "...I'll understand if you punish me... but please... please, just give me a chance... I don't want to go back to that village..."

The thief paused as he gave the lavender-eyed boy an odd look. "Why would I punish you?"

"...Because I am weighing you down..." Malik muttered.

"Heh, so is my treasure and I'm not punishing it," the bandit chuckled.

Malik blinked at that, unsure of what to say. He looked up at the bandit, very much confused. How could a man who terrified him, tormented him, kidnapped him, and plotted his death act so much kinder than his own father?

The thief smirked, apparently pleased at how he managed to make Malik stop apologizing and begging, before he resumed walking down the path.

Malik blinked again, then sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't understand it. How could anyone show much cruelty one minute and then turn around to show even a sliver of compassion the next? It made no sense.

However, the blond wasn't able to think about it too much. As he rested in the thief's arms, sleep slowly started to creep its way through his body. Before he knew it, he was totally slack against his captor as he slumbered.

The thief smirked.

----

Malik grunted, the fog filling his senses slowly lifting as he became conscious once more. The first thing that came to mind was the dull ache that filled his body, particularly his feet and hands. The blond grimaced as he let out a slight whimper before he could help it, his eyes fluttering open. The next sense to penetrate his mind was a strange medicinal smell.

"...Ur?" Malik blinked slowly, opening his eyes to...

Nothing.

"Ah?" Malik's eyes widened, though he could barely tell. He was in complete darkness, unable to see even the tip of his nose. The blond's breathing increased; where was he? Was he dead? What had happened to the thief?

"Finally awake I see."

Malik jerked up, his heart leaping into his throat, before he whirled about towards the sound of the voice. "AH-!?"

"Calm down," came the voice from the dark. A hand, or at least what was thought to be a hand, reached out to gently push the blond back down. "You're going to tear the bandages doing that."

"B-b-bandages-?" Malik repeated as he felt himself pushed back down. His eyes darted about, though it was useless, as he couldn't see anything at all. "W-what... what... bandages?"

There was a soft murmur of words that Malik didn't catch due to his panic, followed by a tingling sensation that rippled through his chest where the bandit touched it. Suddenly there was light as torches burst to life, each burning with a bright blue flame.

"Hah-!?" Malik flinched at the sudden intrusion of light into the darkness, then blinked repeatedly and rubbed his eyes.

When he was able to see again, Malik looked around at his surroundings. He found himself what appeared to be an impressive bedroom, one that could have played host to the Pharaoh himself in fact. He was lying in a large and luxuriously soft bed lined with rich silk in various vibrant colors. Various other furnishings were also in other parts of the room, each varying in style, but very rich in appearance. Unfortunately the luxurious feel of the room was marred by the untidiness of it. Dirty clothes were strewn about in places, and there were stains on some of them that Malik would have preferred not to guess the origin of.

Judging from the walls and ceiling and how they seemed to be smoothly carved from rock; the room was most likely inside one of the caves he saw in the canyon from before. Along every wall there were torches mounted occasionally, but they seemed to give off more light than normal torches due to the blue flame each of them held.

Malik blinked slowly, and then turned towards the voice he had heard before in the darkness.

Sitting beside him on the bed was the thief from before, who was grinning at him. Now that Malik was well rested, the blond could have a better look at him, and found a number of things different than the glimpses he caught in the dark and during his exhaustion. The first thing different was that he was wearing different clothes, ones without bloodstains, and wasn't wearing the stolen jewelry or hood. The second most prominent thing was that the thief had pale skin, close to the color of milk, rather than the tan color every other person in Egypt normally had. Such a sight outright alarmed and confused Malik, as he had seen the thief up close earlier and he was completely certain the skin had been tanned like everyone else's. How could it suddenly be as pale as moonlight now?

"Ah?" Malik blinked repeatedly, confused and a bit overwhelmed. He shifted slightly, feeling particularly nervous as he wondered how long he had been out.

And that was when Malik noticed he wasn't wearing any clothes.

Malik squeaked in surprise and flushed as he found himself completely naked, save for bandages wrapped around almost every inch of his body. Not only that, but his skin was scrubbed clean. It felt soft and tender to the touch, devoid of the usual grime and dirt it had clung to him in spite of the bathing he had done at the oasis earlier. It felt good, but also a bit embarrassing; someone must have bathed him, and he had a good suspicion of whom. The blond shivered and curled up slightly, in an almost defensive position, as he craned his head about for any sign of his clothes.

"Relax," the thief said, smiling in a quite amused manner. "You won't need any clothes until you heal."

"I... heal...?" Malik turned to look at the thief, his cheeks bright red. "I... don't understand."

The paler man gestured at the bandages Malik wore. "You've got injuries everywhere from the neck down," he explained. "I'm surprised you haven't bled to death already judging from some of them."

Malik glanced at his person, and then flushed even brighter. He had always had such injuries, as he was almost always messing up or causing his father to be angry with him, which always resulted in the whip. Still, what was so unusual about that? "I, uh... W-why... why would you waste bandages on me...?"

"Are you planning on ripping them off or getting yourself injured again?" the thief asked as he quirked an eyebrow.

"N-no, of course not!" Malik protested, aghast. Who would dare waste such things like that?

The thief smirked, amused. "Then they're not going to be wasted."

"But-!" Malik stared at the thief as if he were insane. "But to use bandages... and MEDICINE, of all things, on ME?!"

"You're my property now and I'll decide what to do with you," the bandit said seriously as he gazed at the blond.

"But to use medicines and bandages on PROPERTY...!" Malik shook his head, completely bewildered. "Even my father never-!"

"I'm not your father," the thief retorted as he eyed the bandages, checking to see if any had been bled through.

"...Well, yes... I know but..." Malik shifted. "...Wh-why would you want to use such a thing on me when my own father...? I don't even know your name..."

"Because I understand your value a lot better than he does," the thief said off-handedly before straightening.

"M-my value...?" Malik repeated weakly, a bit dazed.

The thief merely smirked.

Malik furrowed his eyebrows, and then lowered his head submissively. "W-what... what am I supposed to do for you anyway, uh... M-Master... sir?"

"Just call me 'Bakura'," the thief said, still smirking.

"Bakura," Malik repeated, nodding slightly. He glanced up a bit shyly, wondering where he stood exactly on the food chain. "What do... I do for you... Bakura?"

"For now, heal," Bakura responded casually. "If I put you to work before you heal it'll waste medicine and bandages."

Malik made a face. His father would have never allowed such a thing, injuries or no. "A-and then...?"

Bakura smirked, amused at the expression on the newly made slave's face. "I'll think of something."

Malik swallowed hard, his vivid imagination already cycling through what Bakura might 'think of'. "Y-yes... sir..."

"Are you hungry?" Bakura suddenly asked, changing the topic completely.

"Hah?" Malik's eyes widened and, before he could stop it, his stomach growled in affirmation. The blond squeaked and held his stomach, then flushed and silently scolded himself. "Not... especially..."

Bakura made a face then suddenly poked Malik's nose. "Don't lie," he scolded.

Malik squeaked as his eyes widened, his hand going to his nose. "Eeep?"

The thief couldn't help but burst out laughing.

Malik blinked slowly as he wondered what the thief found so funny.

"Cute," Bakura chuckled before poking the tanned boy's nose again.

"Eep-!" Malik squeaked again, falling backwards.

Bakura couldn't help but burst out laughing again at the fallen boy.

"Uh?" Malik stared at Bakura, wondering if it was a good or bad thing that the thief was laughing at him.

Finally Bakura's laughter died down again to soft chuckles. "So what do you want to eat?" he asked, his eyes glittering with amusement.

"Um... w-what am I... allowed to eat?" Malik asked as he fumbled back up to a sitting position. He never got anything other than bread and leftovers before he met the thief; what his father and the servants didn't eat, he ate.

"What do you feel like eating?" Bakura asked, ignoring the blond's question.

"...Ah? Is... is that a rhetorical question?" Malik stared at Bakura.

Bakura leaned in to gaze closely into the other boy's lavender eyes. "I mean 'what do you want to eat so I can keep you from starving to death?'"

Malik gasped, his face tinting red at how close the silver-eyed boy's face was to his own. "I'll... I'll... take whatever you can spare..."

Bakura snorted, his hot breath brushing against Malik's face before he leaned back. "Fine, I'll just have to choose myself." With that he slipped off the bed and left the room briskly.

Malik stared after Bakura before he hugged his knees to his chest, silently scolding his stomach for being so noisy. "...I could eat even moldy bread..."

A number of long minutes passed in silence until finally Bakura returned, carrying a large bowl in one arm and a number of filled water skins in the other.

"Huh?" Malik looked up, blinking. "What's... all that?"

"Your food," Bakura answered simply as he sat down, presenting the bowl to Malik, which was surprisingly filled with a number of dried meats, fruits, and breads.

"...Where...?" Malik stared at the bowl. "This?"

Bakura placed the bowl down before Malik then did the same with the water skins. "I brought you water too. I've also got wine if you don't feel like throwing up anymore."

"W-wine?" Malik lifted his head to stare at the thief. "For ME!?"

Bakura couldn't help but chuckle at the blond's reaction. "Yes, so are you going to eat or do I have to feed you now?"

"I... f-for me? Are... are you sure-!?" Malik looked from the bowl to Bakura, eyes wide.

"Do I look like I'm not?" Bakura asked as he quirked an eyebrow.

"I... guess..." Malik replied before he grabbed a piece of bread and bit into it. His eyes immediately lit up as the taste of fresh bread, not the stale or moldy kind he usually ate, assaulted his taste buds.

Bakura couldn't help but smirk as he took in the tanned boy's expression of shock and delight. "Go ahead and eat your fill."

Malik needed no more bidding, his taste buds taking control. The blond proceeded to tear at the food in a frenzied manner, as if he were afraid it would be taken away at any second.

Bakura chuckled softly as he watched, apparently finding his slave's enthusiasm quite entertaining.

Malik choked slightly and coughed before he swallowed, then shoved an apple almost entirely in his mouth.

"Slow down," Bakura chided as he pat Malik's back carefully to help ease the other boy's swallowing. "I'm not going to take it away from you. And drink some water."

Malik paused to stare at a water skin, then reached for it and fumbled to open it. He quickly took a drink, and then gasped before gulping down the contents. It would have been humorous if not for the fact that it hinted at just what kind of meals the blond was used to.

"Slow down or you'll throw up," Bakura said as he took a hold of the tanned boy's hands and tilted the water skin upright so as to force Malik to pause between gulps.

"Hah... hah..." Malik panted for breath, then wiped at his mouth. "S-so good...!"

"All the more reason to slow down and enjoy it," Bakura chided before letting go of the blond's hands.

Malik nodded weakly as he reached for a piece of fruit and shoved it into his mouth. He chewed at it, making very happy eating noises. The thought never crossed his mind that it might be poisoned; but then, if it were, he wouldn't be alive to contemplate it.

"Better," Bakura smirked as he watched his slave eat.

Malik licked at his fingers, slurping, and took another drink of water before returning to the bowl of food. He was done with well over half of its contents and obviously intended to finish it all.

"Enjoying yourself?" Bakura asked, although it was obvious that he already knew the answer.

Malik nodded vigorously as he munched, focused entirely on the food.

"How often did you get fed before?" Bakura asked, curious.

"Mmmm..." Malik licked his fingers again. "Once a day... and whenever I could steal leftovers from the servants."

"So you're a thief too?" Bakura smirked, finding that thought amusing.

Malik looked at the silver haired man, and then appeared crestfallen. "...I was just hungry..."

Bakura blinked then shook his head. "Forget it. Just eat."

Malik stared, confused. "...I'm sorry?"

"Just eat," Bakura repeated.

Malik paused, then nodded weakly and resumed munching at the food. Pretty soon, the bowl was completely empty save for scraps. And even then, the injured boy nibbled at them.

"You must have been starved," Bakura commented off-handedly.

"...I... don't require much food," Malik muttered, evasively.

"Liar," Bakura said as he poked the blond's nose.

"Eeep!" Malik squeaked, jumping.

Bakura chuckled.

"H-huh?" Malik rubbed his nose, staring.

"I think I'm going to enjoy keeping you, Malik," Bakura smirked wickedly.

----

"B-but this is your bed... I can't possibly..."

"It's also the best bed here, which is why you should use it until you heal," Bakura explained, arms crossed over his chest in a firm manner.

Malik slumped his shoulders as he sat in the middle of the bed, staring up at Bakura with wide eyes. He covered his front with his hands, which he also leaned against for support. "But..."

"This isn't up for debate," Bakura pointed out, reaching out to poke the blond's nose for emphasis. "Get comfortable and go to sleep."

Malik squeaked and reached up to cover his nose with one hand, blinking slowly. "...W-where will you be?"

"In another bedroom," Bakura answered simply.

"...Oh," Malik itched his nose. It'd make sense for there to be more than one bedroom. "I see..."

Bakura glanced around before tilting his head as he looked at his captive. "Do you need a lit candle in here?"

"I... m-maybe," Malik muttered, then paused and shook his head. He didn't want to sound cowardly. "No."

"Okay then," the thief shrugged before turning. "Good night, Malik."

"G-good night, Bakura." Malik replied, uncertain.

Bakura said something lowly that the tanned boy didn't understand just before disappearing from sight only moments before all of the torches suddenly went out on their own.

Malik gasped, his eyes widening as he suddenly found himself in complete and absolute darkness. He held perfectly still, trying to give his eyes time to adjust to the darkness. However, it seemed a lost cause, as he still couldn't see anything, not even his own nose.

Malik's heart started to pound, the silence enhancing the sound of each beat. The golden haired boy remained perfectly still, trying to ignore the sense of fear and horror as his body quivered. It was just the darkness; there wasn't anything to fear, even if he couldn't see, right?

Unfortunately, no matter how many times he told himself that, it didn't help.

Malik trembled as he started to breathe quickly; holding his head as he slowly rocked himself. He supposed it was silly to fear the darkness, but he couldn't help it. The sheer terror of the unknown lurked around him, threatening him with its presence.

Malik couldn't take it anymore.

The young boy slowly rocked himself, starting to hum. It was an old song his sister had sung to him once or twice; it was both comforting and broke the silence: two things he needed badly. The young boy hiccupped slightly as he hummed; feeling tears well up in his eyes as he continued the melody. He hated this darkness... this emptiness...

Malik didn't know how long he sat there, humming. It seemed like an eternity, but for all he knew it could have just been a few moments. The darkness masked everything, including the passage of time.

Eventually, the boy moved to press his forehead to his knees and trembled, his song breaking off to a small whimper.

"Too scared to sleep?"

Malik nearly jumped out of his skin, letting out a small cry as he fell backwards onto the bed.

Odd words were softly muttered, vaguely familiar, before the torches suddenly relit about the room, the instant of light nearly blinding the hapless blond.

Malik yelped and covered his eyes, grimacing at the intense pain. Tears of pain mingled with the tears already present, making it hard to determine which was which.

Suddenly he felt the covers being pulled over his head to help block out the light.

"Are you okay?"

"B-Bakura?" Malik muttered, though he knew it must be. Who else could it be, after all? "I... I'm okay..."

"Are you sure you don't want a candle?" Bakura asked, his tone light, which almost sounded to the blond as if he were amused.

"I... I..." Malik blinked slowly, then whimpered and hugged himself. "Maybe..." he managed to choke out before he broke down bawling. He was such an idiot!

"Malik?" Bakura asked, confused, as he removed the blanket to better see the tanned boy.

Malik covered his face as he sobbed softly, unable to stop himself. He was doing that a lot recently but he just couldn't help it! He was so tired and nothing was going right!

Bakura stared at the sobbing blond, apparently at a loss for what to do.

Malik's shoulders jerked with each heavy sob, the poor distraught boy moving to roll over onto his side so that Bakura couldn't see his tears. It was embarrassing enough simply knowing they were there!

To his dismay the thief sat down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to turn him back over onto his back.

Malik shivered and curled up, trying to hide his face as best he can, or at least make it hard to roll him over. "I'm sorry..."

"Why are you crying?" Bakura asked as he gave up trying to force Malik to move and squeezed the blond's shoulder gently.

"I... I d-don't know... I j-just can't stop..." Malik snuffled, and then shook his head violently. "I... I..."

Bakura made a face, not that the other boy could see his expression right now. "Do you need anything?"

"No... I... I don't need anything..." Malik whimpered, then trembled and buried his face in the bed. "I... I'm used to being alone..."

Bakura was silent for a few moments before he reached out and started to stroke the blond's hair softly, being surprisingly soothing.

Malik blinked blurrily and lifted his head to stare at Bakura in confusion, tears dropping down his cheeks.

"You're not alone anymore," Bakura said softly, his gaze almost affectionate as he reached out to wipe away the other boy's tears.

"I... I'm not?" Malik asked weakly, uncertain of how to react to the thief's tenderness. He rolled over onto his back, flinching as it aggravated his numerous injuries, and then fumbled to sit up.

"No, you're not," Bakura smiled crookedly as he helped the tanned boy up.

Malik looked at Bakura, and then bowed his head. "I... I just..." How could he explain to his master that he was afraid of the dark? How could he tell a thief, someone who was obviously afraid of nothing, about such a childish fear?

"You just...?" Bakura pressed as he started to run his fingers through the blond's golden hair.

Malik closed his eyes, enjoying the touches in his hair. Only his sister had ever touched him so gently. "I... everything is just so strange and new... and frightening..."

Bakura continued to manipulate the lavender-eyed boy's hair and scalp softly. "I see..."

Malik moved closer to the thief unconsciously, the gentle caresses slowly working away his tension. He couldn't help it; he was so desperate for a tender touch. "Mmmm... I... slept with the animals, so I..."

Bakura made a face at that. "You said something like that earlier, too... You really slept with animals?"

"Well, yes." Malik looked up, blinking. "Where else would I sleep?"

"You weren't even given your own room?" Bakura asked, frowning.

"Whenever my sister visited, yes," Malik nodded slowly. "But I was back in the barn as soon as she left."

"Why?" Bakura asked curiously, although he didn't seem at all pleased.

"Because of the crime of my birth." Malik replied, as if reciting something he heard many times.

"The crime of your birth?" Bakura asked, obviously not believing that statement.

"I killed my mother while she gave birth to me," came the automatic response.

Bakura was silent for a few moments, a frown on his face. "You're getting blamed for something that wasn't your fault?"

"If I hadn't been born, she wouldn't have died."

Bakura's gaze flattened. "And if you hadn't been born I wouldn't have you here."

Malik blinked at that and looked at his master. "...Yes... that's true."

"Good, you agree," Bakura grinned as he started to play with the blond's hair again.

Malik tilted his head and peered at Bakura, oddly. "You... care?"

Bakura returned the odd look with one of his. "You didn't notice?"

"I... I wouldn't know what to look for in order TO notice," Malik muttered, feeling embarrassed.

"Just think about how I've treated you since I decided to keep you," Bakura suggested as he continued to stroke the other boy's hair, lightly tickling the back of Malik's neck.

"T-that's true," Malik admitted, nodding slowly. It was rare for someone to be nice to him. But then, Bakura could've just been worried about his property.

"You should try and get some sleep," the thief grinned. "I can leave the torches lit or get a candle for you if you want."

"M-maybe a candle...?" Malik muttered. "I... I don't want to keep you awake too."

"I can see in the dark just as well as I can in the light," Bakura explained with a shrug. "It doesn't bother me either way."

"Oh," Malik felt particularly stupid; of course the thief wasn't bothered by the dark. The blond lowered his gaze to the bed, gripping his knees tightly. He must have seemed like such a child.

"You don't have to be scared here," Bakura pointed out. "I'm the only one who lives here and it's perfectly safe."

"I suppose," Malik grunted. "But a lot good that does when you're in pitch darkness!" he added, mentally. He shifted and moved to curl up on the bed, rolling onto his side. He stared at the wall, eyes half lidded. "...I guess... it's just..." he mumbled aloud, only to trail off.

"Just what?" Bakura asked curiously as he tilted his head slightly, leaning over the tanned boy.

"I've... never slept by myself before," Malik muttered. "I'd always have the animals... or my sister would sleep with me when she visited..."

"Do you want me to sleep with you?" Bakura asked as a distinctly mischievous grin appeared on his face.

"I... if you want to," Malik whispered, glancing at the thief. He wanted the company, but the silver-eyed man could do all sorts of things to him while he slept. Still, he supposed his master would have done them anyway without the excuse of him being asleep.

"Well, this is the most comfortable bed," Bakura smiled wryly.

"Oh... okay..." Malik moved over to make room for the thief, trying not to blush. He wondered if that was Bakura's ONLY reason for wanting to be in the bed.

However, the bandit didn't immediately go to the bed. Instead he went over to a box in the corner that seemed to contain things that were most likely stolen, as some of it looked as if it were made of gold. After a moment Bakura removed a candle fitted on a gold stand from the box, and carried it over to a small table near the bed before lighting it. However, the odd thing was that he muttered something before lighting it rather than using flint or some other normal method to light fires.

"How did you...?" Malik muttered, moving closer to see.

Bakura sat down on the bed next to the blond and tilted his head slightly. "You haven't figured it out by now?"

"Is that... magic?" Malik looked at the thief, curiously.

"Of course it is," Bakura answered with an odd expression on his face.

"It didn't... explode." Malik frowned and peered at the candle.

Bakura blinked then burst out laughing. "It would've if I didn't know what I was doing."

"Oh." Malik tilted his head and moved to poke lightly at the candle. "Well, I guess it's good you know what you're doing!"

Once Bakura's laughter died down he looked at the other boy curiously. "Have you ever heard of those with sorcerers' blood?"

"Some things," Malik admitted. "Like about magic powers and bathe in the blood of innocents."

Bakura made a face at that, but didn't seem surprised. "Is that all?"

"If there was, I forgot it," Malik replied, shrugging. "I... never really paid attention, as I was generally cleaning at the time."

"I see..." Bakura gazed at the blond in an odd manner. "Do you believe what you've heard?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Malik looked at Bakura. "But... father said the same thing about me... so doesn't that make me one, too?"

The thief blinked then smirked. "Maybe, maybe not."

Malik made a face at that, and then moved to curl up on the bed again. "...Are you one?"

"Yes."

"Then I guess it means it wasn't true." Malik grunted as he snuggled up into the bed. "I'm still breathing and you didn't suck my blood out."

Bakura blinked at that before he burst out laughing.


	4. Chapter Four

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter Four

----

_ "Father..."_

_ Malik looked around wildly as he ran through the darkness, gasping for breath. He could feel the darkness at his heels, a dank and hideous breath against the back of his neck. "Father! Help me!"_

_ From the darkness the image of his father appeared. The elder man was facing away from him, hands on his hips._

_ "F-FATHER!" Malik gasped, and then hurried towards the figure. "H-HELP ME! PLEASE! IT'S COMING-!"_

_ His father turned towards Malik, his eyes blazing with fury. "How dare you bother me!" he roared as he pulled a whip from the darkness. The whip was far different than the normal one his father used and looked more like the vine of a thorny plant._

_ Malik skidded to a stop as his eyes widened drastically. He scrambled back, gasping as he brought his arms up instinctively. "F-FATHER-!?"_

_ "YOU PIECE OF FILTH!" His father roared, striking the whip into the air. The sky seemed to start to break from the lashing of the whip, creating a large crack within the darkness that was filled with a light that looked like glowing blood._

_ Malik squealed and scrambled away, shielding his head, before he tripped and fell to the ground in a heap. "N-no-! Father-!"_

_ "I SHOULD HAVE KILLED YOU AFTER YOU KILLED MY WIFE, DEMON SPAWN!" Malik's father roared, seeming growing larger until he was easily five times the terrified boy's size. He pulled back with the whip, which had grown along with him._

_ "Father, please-!" Malik whimpered, scrambling back on all fours. "Please stop! I'm scared!"_

_ "DIE!"_

_ The whip tore through the air, deafening like thunder, as it came down on Malik._

Malik jerked up with a gasp, his eyes wide. Sweat dripped down every crevice of his body, his skin clammy and covered with goose bumps.

After a few minutes of gasping for breath, Malik shivered and hugged himself. He couldn't tell if he was awake or asleep, as darkness engulfed everything. However, judging from the sound of Bakura's breath, the blond wagered he must have been awake. The candle must have gone out sometime while he was asleep; that was the only explanation for the darkness.

Malik shivered, his eyes watering. He wondered if his father missed him or if he was actually celebrating his disappearance, holding a monstrous party for all. Something told him that his father most likely was more concerned about the loss of his valuables than the loss of his worthless son.

Malik let out a choked sob as he buried his face in his knees.

"Bad dream?"

Malik tensed and looked up instinctively, not that he could see anything. He blinked slowly, tears trickling down his cheek as they pooled in the corners. Something touched his cheek in the dark. It felt like a hand, which wiped the tears from his cheek with surprising gentleness. The blond blinked slowly before his eyes softened, full of grief and despair. He snuffled slightly, his body shaking, before he let out another choked sob.

"You dreamed about your father."

Malik looked up, snuffling. "W-what...?"

"You were talking in your sleep."

Fingers softly brushed against each of Malik's cheeks, wiping away the tears there.

"...Oh," the blond bowed his head, his fingers curling up to clutch his arms tightly. "...Yes... I was..."

"You can talk about it if you want."

Those fingers moved to run through Malik's hair, soft and soothing.

"It's... nothing..." Malik closed his eyes. However, his resolve only lasted a second before he burst out crying. "He doesn't miss me at all, does he!? He's... he's happy I'm gone!"

The thief said nothing as he played with the blond's hair.

Malik hiccupped and covered his face with his hands, shaking. "He... he probably didn't even notice until he realized things were missing and he wanted to blame me!"

"Do you want to kill him?"

Malik looked up, gasping slightly, and turned to face Bakura as best he could. "W-what? Kill him...?"

"He hates and abuses you. He was probably too cowardly to kill you, or he preferred to use you as slave labor."

Malik lowered his gaze, his eyes still watering. "...That's true... but it was all my fault..."

"Because you were born?"

"Yes." The blond closed his eyes. "If I hadn't been born, my mother... wouldn't have died."

"You're very strange, Malik."

"I know." Malik slumped into the bed. "I'm... a lot of things."

"Regardless, you won't have to worry about your father anymore. You're never going back there again."

Malik snuffled, wiping at his nose. "...One way or another..."

"I'm not going to kill you."

Malik blinked at that and squinted to try and see Bakura's face.

The fingers that were running through his hair slipped away.

"Go to sleep now."

Malik stared at the darkness for a moment, many thoughts and emotions running through him, before he finally nodded and curled up against the bed.

However, the smothering darkness and almost oppressive silence coupled with the nightmare he had not moments earlier seemed to make any attempts at sleep an effort in futility. Malik curled up against the bed, his eyes half-lidded, as he listened to the silence. He knew he couldn't sleep, nor was he very keen on it anyway due to his dreams. However, he couldn't even move around listlessly or else he'd disturb Bakura.

So, all he could do was lie there.

"Still scared?"

"I'm sorry if I'm keeping you awake..." Malik muttered.

"I'm usually awake at night."

A hand brushed across Malik's cheek softly. He blushed lightly at the touch, then shivered and hugged himself tightly. "...Bakura?"

"Yes?"

"Did you mean it?" the blond asked quietly. He didn't really think that Bakura would tell him the truth, but then again, why would he lie?

"About not killing you?"

"Yes," Malik nodded slightly. "W-what if you lose interest or if I mess up... won't you change your mind?"

"Unless you do something to purposefully upset me, I doubt it."

Bakura started to play with Malik's hair again idly, lightly tickling the tanned boy.

"But what if you think I did something to purposely upset you but I didn't mean it?" Malik gushed out. "I'm stupid, so I could screw up all sorts of ways without meaning to!"

"Do you want to stay here with me?"

Malik went quiet before he nodded weakly. "I... think so... n-no one else has ever been so... so..."

"So?"

"Kind..." Malik muttered.

"I see..."

"...I must sound foolish to you," Malik whispered, hugging himself. "You kidnapped me, held me at knife point, dragged me through the desert on a horse until I was about to throw up, and intended to kill me... but... but then you... save me from the jackals... give me food... bandage me... carry me when I couldn't walk anymore... I..."

"I kill people when I have to. After traveling with you I realized that I didn't have to kill you. In fact, I like you, so that's why I'm keeping you."

"...B-Because you took off my hood and veil?" Malik couldn't help but ask.

"Maybe."

"Ah..." Malik fidgeted, curled up defensively on the bed. He went silent for a moment, and then looked up. "...You like me?"

"Yes."

Bakura touched Malik's cheek briefly before he resumed playing with the tanned boy's hair. Malik blushed, his cheeks very warm. "No one's ever liked me before... except my sister... but she has to like everyone."

"Oh?"

"Yes," Malik nodded slightly. "She's much more important than I am."

"Why? Because of what your father said?"

"Yes, of course." Malik blinked at that.

A snort was heard. "I'm not sure who's the bigger fool: your father for telling you that sort of thing and abusing you all the time to crush your spirit, or you for just submitting and believing it's all true even when you're not with him anymore."

"...I didn't just... submit at first..." Malik's hands drifted upwards to his shoulders, gripping the bandages tightly. He could still remember the beatings whenever he mouthed off. He cringed and closed his eyes. "...But for him to hate me so much... it must have been true..."

The hands that played with the blond's hair moved to overtake Malik's own hands and gently pulled them away from his shoulders.

"No. It was a lie. Women die during childbirth all the time; many with their children. The children that survive are almost always seen as miracles. Your father was just a bastard looking for someone to blame."

Malik lowered his gaze as he considered that, then shivered and let out a soft sniffle. "B-Bakura... I..."

"You will never see him again, so just forget he ever existed."

Malik snuffled, and then nodded weakly as his eyes started to water once more. He shivered, his hands moving to grasp Bakura's hands. "...I... don't want to be afraid anymore..."

"You don't have to be."

Bakura's hands caressed Malik's with surprising gentleness.

"Really...?" Malik muttered as he looked towards those soft hands, attempting to see them through the blinding darkness as he felt them. "You swear...?"

"Yes." Bakura's hands squeezed the tanned boy's gently. "Now go to sleep."

"...I'll try..." Malik replied, a bit hesitant. He didn't want to dream again...

"Dreams can't hurt you if you don't let them."

Malik simply nodded, shivering slightly. He couldn't tell Bakura just how terrified the darkness made him feel; he'd sound cowardly and the thief might stop liking him.

The blond decided to just suffer in silence until he passed out, like he always did.

All of a sudden the thief's hands left his, startling him, and then again when they pulled him close against a very warm body.

"Does this help?" Bakura murmured into Malik's hair as he held the other boy close.

"Hah...!" Malik gasped, his heart racing, as his face grew incredibly warm. He could hear Bakura's heartbeat, the sound chasing away the silence. After a tense moment, the blond relaxed and nodded.

"Good," Bakura yawned, and Malik could feel the thief rest his chin atop his head. "Get comfortable and go to sleep."

Malik blinked slowly, then blushed as he moved forward to rest his head against what he theorized was Bakura's chest. He rested there for a moment before closing his eyes, sighing. The darkness didn't seem quite so intimidating now, what with the assurance that another person was with him.

Even if that person was a thief and his captor.

After a few minutes, a soft hum joined the heartbeats filling his ears. Malik blinked as he realized that it was the thief; he was singing to him! The blond listened, both curious and stupefied that the thief would sing for him. He didn't know the words to the song, as it was definitely foreign to him, but it was very comforting.

The blond breathed softly as he listened, his eyes growing heavy with each hummed note and heartbeat.

Moments ticked away as Malik grew more and more sleepy, his body eventually going completely lax against Bakura, until he finally lost consciousness.

And then, all was still.

----

Malik sat on the bed as he watched Bakura intently, blinking slowly. He was dressed in a light robe, practically see-through, as the frosty morning air made the cave particularly cold.

"What is it?" the thief asked as he slipped on his hood. He was adorned in an open shirt that was a mixture of blue and white, a simple sarong, and a pair of finely trimmed slippers.

Malik tilted his head and itched his chin. "You're going to leave me here all alone?"

"I have to," Bakura pointed out as he turned to look at the blond more fully. "You need to stay here to heal, and I need to restock some supplies."

"I guess so," Malik sighed, then slumped his shoulders. "When... will you be back?"

"It depends." A thoughtful look passed over Bakura's face as he scratched just behind his ear. "I might be able to get back before sunset or not until after sunrise."

Malik sighed again, and then hugged his knees to his chest. "I guess I could sleep..."

"Exactly," Bakura smiled smugly before reaching out to ruffle his slave's hair suddenly.

Malik squeaked and peered up at Bakura, golden locks hiding his eyes as his hair flopped all over the place.

"Just relax and enjoy yourself," the thief grinned as he lowered his hand. "There's enough food left to last until tomorrow, so you'll be fine."

Malik simply nodded, unsure of what else to say. He certainly didn't expect Bakura to leave him home alone. But then, why not? It wasn't like he could go anywhere!

A look crossed the bandit's features just as he started to turn, as if he had forgotten something, and he looked back at the other boy. "Before I go I need to give you something."

"Huh?" Malik looked up and stared at the thief. "Something for me?"

"I'll get it." Bakura then walked over to the chest where he kept his medicine and bent over so that he could root through it, inadvertently allowing the blond a good view of his rear.

Malik blushed and quickly looked away, his cheeks bright red. Why was he blushing so badly? It wasn't like he was attracted to the thief...

"Here it is..." Bakura muttered after a minute of searching, and then straightened. He looked back over at the other boy with an eyebrow raised. "Something wrong?"

"N-nothing," Malik slapped his cheeks to try and cover up his blush, or at least hide it under the redness his hands caused. "I'm fine... just a bit groggy."

Bakura didn't look quite convinced, but let it drop anyway. "Okay..." He then held out something in his hands to the flustered blond.

Malik reached out to accept the object, and then blinked repeatedly as he stared at a beautiful gold locket he now held. "Jewelry? For me?"

Bakura nodded, smiling in a rather smug manner. "It's more than just a piece of jewelry." He then turned, glancing back at his slave. "Follow me."

The blond slipped on some soft leather slippers before following after Bakura, holding the locket tightly.

The thief led his slave through the caverns until they reached an apparent dead end. With a crooked grin he looked back at the other boy as he rapped his knuckles against the wall. "Tap it against here."

Malik looked at Bakura before peering at the wall. He did as he was told, gently tapping the locket against the wall.

The metal lightly clanked against the semi-smooth surface of the cavern wall, the sound reverberating through the air. Suddenly there was a loud sound of rumbling, as well as the scraping of rock as the wall slid open to reveal a darkened passageway.

Malik jumped back, holding the locket tightly, and stared at the passageway. "It opened!"

Bakura gestured into the darkened passage. "This is the only way in or out of the cave." He then pointed at the locket. "What you're holding is the key to open the door. It was made for emergencies for children who don't know enough magic to open it by themselves."

"I see," Malik muttered as he peered out the passageway, then at Bakura. "So this is mine?"

The thief smiled wryly. "Yes, but ONLY for emergencies." He then poked the other boy's nose. "I don't want you running around until you're healed."

Malik squeaked, and then rubbed his nose. "...I know, I know. Just sleep."

"Right," Bakura grinned.

Malik shifted nervously, unsure of what else to say. He peered up at the thief anxiously, his cheeks tinting ever so slightly.

"It'll only keep the door open for a limited time before it closes, so be sure to watch that," Bakura continued, eying the blond.

Malik nodded slowly, looking at the door curiously before back at Bakura again. "I understand."

"Good, now go back to sleep," the bandit continued to smile before brushing the other boy's gold hair from his eyes. "And don't get into too much trouble."

Malik blushed even more brightly and nodded, backing up slowly, before he turned and hurried back towards the bedroom.

By the time he got there he heard the faint familiar sound of the door moving, obviously shutting now, before all was still.

Malik peered over his shoulder back at the exit, then sighed and held the locket close. He supposed this showed how much faith Bakura had in him, but the idea of needing an emergency exit was a bit unnerving. What sort of emergencies could happen inside a cave?

----

Malik sighed as he sat in the bedroom, hugging one leg to his chest while the other dangled uselessly off the bed. He rested his chin on his knee, making a face. "...Where is he?"

Bakura hadn't come home, yet had been gone for hours. At least, it seemed like hours to the slave. The cave was monstrously lonely and empty without someone else to fill it, even if that someone was a slave master. Still, Malik waited like a good slave for Bakura to return.

However, as time passed, the blond grew more and more impatient.

With a grunt, Malik flopped backwards onto the bed and glared at the ceiling. "It's so boring..." he huffed.

It was hard to tell exactly how long Bakura had gone, as there were no windows to look outside of the cave from to see the position of the sun, but it felt as if the entire day had passed.

Malik rolled over onto his stomach and kicked his legs slowly, making a rather irritated face. He had never had so much free time before, so he had no idea what to do with it all. He had slept for hours to the point that he was sick of it, he had eaten his fill, and he even folded all the clothes in the room (as that required little labor). And yet, Bakura was not back and he was still utterly bored and lonely. Where was his master, and what was taking him so long to return? It had to been well into tomorrow with how much time he felt had passed.

"Grrrrr," Malik flailed helplessly, trying to relieve some of his excess energy, and then flopped against the bed completely limp. "...I wonder what outside looks like."

When he was with his father, He had spent all of his time inside and never saw the outside world. If he had stopped to peer out the windows, his father would scream at him for loitering. He never really had to leave the house, as the barn was connected to the side of it through a single door. Ironically, the exact same thing was happening now. Even when he had been kidnapped, he had been too terrified to think of looking at the sky. He hadn't even thought to look at his surroundings too well; and even if he had, he wouldn't have been able to appreciate it.

Why couldn't he see the sky? He had the locket and Bakura wasn't around. Theoretically, he could sneak in and out without being seen.

The more Malik thought about it, the more he wanted to do it. Soon enough, he couldn't think about anything else.

"I... I want to go outside." Malik grunted as he sat up.

What Bakura didn't know, wouldn't hurt him.

With that, Malik proceeded towards the entrance to the cave. His determination grew as his excitement increased, his hand fumbling for the locket. He started to shake with eagerness as he tapped the locket against the wall. Just like before, a crisp chime of metal rang through the air and the wall slid open noisily, revealing the darkened passageway that led to the outside world.

Malik stared for a moment at the darkness before he slowly walked out of the entrance, holding the locket close. He stopped in the hallway as he peered into the depths of the darkness. "...It's really dark."

After a moment, Malik grimaced and turned about.

"I need a candle..." he grunted.

Unfortunately the wall chose that moment to close itself, the stones scraping in an almost ominous manner as they cut off all the light in the cavern.

Malik squeaked and stared blankly at the wall, finding himself in complete darkness. He stood perfectly immobile, unsure of what to do. Should he re-tap the wall to open it or just go through the dark, blindly?

After a few moments of thought, curiosity won over again. He didn't want to waste too much time or he'd miss out. He imagined it was nearing the end of the day so that the sun was setting. If he didn't hurry, he might miss everything.

His mind made up once more, Malik whirled and hurried through the dark corridor. He used one hand to feel out in front of him, checking for corners or other obstacles.

Surprisingly, the passage was easy-going. There were no sharp turns or obstacles, so the slave boy found himself walking forward with his arms outstretched for quite a distance. After a while of blindly searching he finally spied light up ahead softly spilling in from outside, which allowed him to see a little bit of the cave.

"Hah?" Malik blinked and hurried towards the light, then gasped as the cave gave way to the outside world. As he emerged from the darkness of the cave, immediately he was bathed in light, but it wasn't the light he was expecting. Instead of the sun he was greeted with a full bright moon and a sky full of countless stars that illuminated the night almost as well as day.

Malik stared at the sky, utterly stupefied. Part of him wanted to curse loudly, as he had obviously missed the sun, but it was quickly drowned out by the sheer awe of the stars and moon.

The slave boy walked further out into the open, craning his head to see. There were just so many stars! With a giggle, Malik moved to climb onto a rock, as if trying to get closer to the twinkling jewels in the sky. He wanted a better view, completely enthralled.

Malik continued to swivel his head about, staring at the stars, before he peered at the moon intently. He moved his hands as if to 'outline' the moon with his fingers, giggling slightly. "It's like a giant ball! Hm..." Malik squinted his eyes as he sized up the moon. "I wonder how big it really is."

"My mother once told me that it's bigger than all of the Pharaoh's lands."

Malik let out a startled cry as he jumped, then squealed as he lost his footing and went tumbling backwards. Fortunately he was quickly caught by a pair of strong arms and gently lowered to the ground. Once he had regained his footing, the blond whirled to stare at whoever had caught him, feeling a sudden surge of panic.

Standing right behind him was none other than his master, Bakura, who grinned at him in amusement. The thief had bags tied to his waist, each obviously filled with some treasure he stole.

Malik blinked repeatedly, and then flushed as guilt flooded through him. He had been caught!

"Out for a little moonlight stroll?" Bakura asked lightly as he quirked an eyebrow.

Malik nodded slowly, feeling quite chastised even though the thief hadn't even scolded him yet.

"How long did you wait before you used the key I gave you to sneak out?" Bakura asked curiously before poking the blond's nose lightly.

"A w-while," Malik replied, truthfully. "But I... I wanted to see the sky!"

Bakura tilted his head curiously. "Just to see the sky?"

Malik nodded, weakly.

"I see..." Bakura muttered before smiling a little. "You're in the wrong place to really look at the sky though."

"Really?" Malik perked up, looking at his master.

The silver-eyed man placed his full sacks down onto the ground before he took the other boy's hand. "Come on, I'll show you," he said with a somewhat smug look on his face as he started to lead the blond off.

"A-all right!" Malik followed Bakura, glad that he wasn't going to be punished.

The thief smiled in an enigmatic fashion as he lead Malik along the canyon trail and up towards the top. At times the way was a bit difficult due to the curvature of the cliffs, but they managed to make it to their destination without incident.

What Malik saw took his breath away.

Malik had thought that his first view of the sky while outside the cave was spectacular, but what he saw now far surpassed any sight he had ever seen before. The stars and moon seemed brighter now that they were so high up, which made it seem as if he might be able to reach out and touch them. Their light shining down upon the two of them in such a wondrous display, it was as if the gods had blessed them.

While Malik was still awed by the sight, Bakura led the blond over to the edge of the canyon and slipped behind the other boy so that he would not obstruct his slave's view. Gently he took a hold of Malik's head from behind and directed the blond's attention forwards.

"...Ohhhhh..." was all Malik had the sense to say as he stared, eyes widening.

The view before him was almost as spectacular as the one from above, as he could see virtually all of the Pharaoh's kingdom and beyond bathed in starlight. He could even see the Pharaoh's city far in the distance, the city lights bathing it in a gentle gold hue, but that seemed to make the light from the stars and moon slightly dimmer there.

"Bakura..." Malik breathed, as if he were afraid the world would shatter if he spoke too loudly. "It looks so beautiful..."

"I told you that this was the place to see the sky," Bakura whispered into the blond's ear, his breath lightly tickling it. "I come up here all the time."

"It's so wonderful..." Malik muttered as he stared at the scene before him, unable to accurately explain just how awestruck he was.

"It's even more wonderful to have someone to share it with..." came Bakura's soft voice, as if he let his thoughts slip without realizing it.

Malik blinked at that but didn't dare press it; he didn't want to invade the thief's thoughts. Instead, he simply leaned back against Bakura and tilted his head skyward. "...I'm... I'm glad I could see them."

Bakura slipped his arms around Malik's waist, surprising the blond momentarily. "I'm glad to see you so cheerful finally," he chuckled softly in the tanned boy's ear. "We can stay here for as long as you want."

"Really?" Malik looked at Bakura, and then chewed on his lip. "Could... could we even watch the sunrise?" The blond gave pause for a moment, unable help but marvel at how the moonlight complimented Bakura so well; the thief looked so radiant...

Bakura seemed to have removed his hood sometime while Malik had been admiring the sights, thus allowing his hair and face to be seen even better. The white strands seemed almost silver, sparkling with the moonlight shining through it, as if it were made of moonbeams. He also seemed to have undone the spell that kept his pale skin tan, so now it looked as if it was slightly luminous. The most stunning thing, however, was how his silver eyes reflected the light, much like a cat's would.

"E-even to sunrise?" Malik repeated, feeling rather lightheaded.

"Sure," Bakura nodded, a roguish grin on his face, unaware of how the expression made his appearance that much more appealing. "It shouldn't be too long before it rises."

"O-okay..." Malik's cheeks tinted slightly.

Reluctantly Bakura removed his arms from around the blond's waist then moved to sit down close to the edge of the cliff. He glanced up at his companion and patted the ground beside him in a silent invitation.

Malik moved so sit down by Bakura, and then glanced skyward again. "How can you tell what time it is?"

"You get a feel for it after a while if you pay enough attention to it," Bakura explained as he leaned back to admire the night sky as well. "It's important to know when the sun will rise when you're a thief. If you don't have the darkness to hide you, the chances of you getting caught and killed become more than twice as likely."

"Ah," Malik nodded slowly. "That makes sense..." He paused and glanced at the thief. "Is it... scary?"

"Yes," Bakura answered, not looking at the blond. "At least at first. But after a while you stop being afraid. Nothing scares me now."

"Ah," Malik wondered what that must be like, then moved closer to Bakura and glanced skyward. "Many things scare me."

"That's because you've been locked up all your life with an abusive father," the thief pointed out as he glanced at his companion.

Malik glanced at Bakura. "...Maybe."

"You mean definitely," Bakura retorted as he poked the blond's nose.

Malik squeaked, and then rubbed his nose. "...Y-yeah."

Bakura chuckled softly before he returned his gaze skyward.

After a moment of silence, Malik moved closer to Bakura and shivered slightly.

Bakura glanced at the other boy for a moment as he noticed the action. "Cold?" he asked curiously as he tilted his head.

"A little," Malik admitted. "But I'll be okay... I want to see the sunrise."

Suddenly Bakura pulled Malik into his lap and wrapped his arms around the shivering blond. "Is this better?"

Malik squeaked and tensed slightly, startled, before he slowly forced himself to relax. The blond nodded as he rested his cheek against Bakura's chest, glancing skyward. "...Which way should I be looking?"

"East." Bakura shifted slightly so that they were facing towards the giant river that ran near the Pharaoh's land. "It comes up over the river."

"Oh," Malik tilted his head to look, and then huffed. "How long?"

Bakura hummed slightly before glancing up at the sky again. "It'll be a while yet, but not too long, so get comfortable."

"A-all right." Malik shifted slightly until he fit rather snuggly close against Bakura, then sighed.

"Mmmm..." Bakura nuzzled his cheek against Malik's, pulling the blond as closely as possible, as he seemed to enjoy their current position. "Yes... like that..."

Malik blinked at the nuzzling, then tilted his head and peered at Bakura.

Bakura blinked as he noticed the look. "Something wrong?"

"...No," Malik shook his head. "I was just... wondering."

"Wondering what?" Bakura tilted his head slightly.

"Many things," Malik replied. "They're probably silly but... I can't help but wonder. Like... when I first saw you, you were tanned. And now you're not. Or how you're so much nicer than my father and you don't seem to hate me even though I..."

"I don't seem to hate you because I don't hate you," Bakura answered as he eyed the boy in his lap oddly. "ANYONE can be nicer than your father." He paused for a moment then smirked. "As for being tanned... If I let anyone know I had such pale skin naturally, they would attack me on sight, so I have to hide it."

"Ohhh," Malik considered that, then sighed and settled back down against Bakura. "...The only person who was nice to me was my sister. Even the servants teased me."

Bakura made a face at that then began to play with the blond's hair. "Because they didn't like you, or just to kiss up to your father?"

"I don't know," Malik said. "They'd do it when he wasn't around. They'd trip me or try and ruin my work so I get punished."

Bakura grunted, agitated at that.

"I just worked extra hard to make sure I didn't," Malik muttered.

Bakura looked at Malik for a few moments before smirking. "Now you don't have to worry about that ever again."

"That's true," Malik nodded, his eyes drooping slightly. Bakura was so warm...

The thief smiled and continued to play with the tanned boy's golden hair as they lapsed into silence, comfortable holding his slave in such a familiar manner.

Malik's entire body relaxed as he enjoyed the feeling of Bakura's fingers through his hair. However, after a few moments, he suddenly remembered something he wanted to ask. "How old are you?"

Bakura blinked, surprised at the sudden question. "Eighteen." He tilted his head slightly. "Why do you ask?"

"Wow, really?" Malik looked up, blinking. "That's how old I am!"

"How ironic," Bakura smiled wryly.

"I thought you were older," Malik muttered. "Because you're very strong and brave."

"I grew up quickly," Bakura answered, his voice unusually subdued.

"Oh," Malik pondered that, and then poked Bakura's sides. "Like with your muscles!"

Bakura jumped at the poking as he let out a loud uncharacteristic squeak. "Hey!" he yelped.

"...What?" Malik looked up. "That hurt?"

Bakura huffed, his cheeks flushed lightly, before he looked away. "No, of course not."

"...Did it TICKLE?" Malik asked.

The flush grew as Bakura made a slight face before he let out a soft noise that sounded almost like a false chuckle, as if the very idea was laughable. "Me? Ticklish? You must be joking."

Malik eyed Bakura and poked his ribs again gently.

The thief let out another squeak as he jumped again. "Hey!" Bakura whirled to gaze at Malik in agitation.

Malik giggled as he ran his finger up Bakura's side.

A squeal escaped from the silver haired boy in spite of how he tried to fight it, instinctively curling up to try and prevent any further ticklish touch. "St-stop that!"

However, as Malik was in Bakura's lap, all the thief did was curl up around him. The lavender-eyed boy smiled wryly as he ran his fingers up and down Bakura's side.

This time the thief couldn't stop himself from giggling at the ticklish touch, and tried to squirm away from the blond. "S-STOOOP-!" he tried to protest between giggles.

"Stop what? You're not ticklish!" Malik giggled.

Bakura panted slightly as the tanned boy stopped, at least for the moment. He huffed in agitation as he recovered, and glared at the blond, his cheeks tinted pink. "I'm not, so stop trying to tickle me!" It almost seemed as if the thief was pouting considering the tone and expression he had.

Malik grinned as he finally relented, allowing the thief time to breathe. Something about discovering such a weakness made him feel giddy. He had no idea why he dared to do such a thing!

At seeing that Malik wasn't going to tickle him anymore, Bakura relaxed, but still seemed to sulk at having such a weakness exploited. Malik watched Bakura, wondering if he had gone too far. Should he apologize?

Suddenly the thief lashed out to pull Malik close, whipped the blond about to pin the tanned boy to the ground, and tickled his companion's ribs with a wicked grin on his face.

Malik yelped in surprise before bursting out with laughter, squirming underneath the thief.

"Looks like YOU'RE the one who's ticklish!" Bakura laughed as he tickled the other boy, delighting in watching Malik squirm beneath him.

Malik couldn't respond, too busy laughing hysterically as he squirmed against the thief.

After a couple moments Bakura finally ceased in his tickle torture, and allowed his slave a chance to catch his breath. "I win," he practically purred, quite smug in his victory.

Malik gasped for breath, face flushed, as he went limp underneath Bakura. His lungs burned from the tickle torture, demanding more air.

Bakura continued to grin, very mischievous, as he watched the blond recover. After a moment an unknown emotion slipped into his expression as he his gaze became a little more intense.

Malik blinked blurrily up at Bakura as he gasped, looking incredibly vulnerable. What was the thief thinking?

His question was quickly answered; however, as Bakura closed his eyes then suddenly leaned down to brush his lips against Malik's. The contact was brief, feather light, before the thief pulled back, blushing, as if he suddenly realized what he was just doing.

Malik squeaked softly at the brush, his eyes widening slightly. Had the thief tried to kiss him?

Bakura shifted to roll off of Malik then sat up, his face quite red. He grunted and huffed as he rubbed his cheeks with the back of his hands, apparently trying to rid himself of the heat that was there.

Malik remained perfectly still, lying on his back, before he slowly sat up and looked at Bakura. "...Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Bakura answered quickly, refusing to look at Malik. His face was still flushed, which could be seen plainly in spite of his attempts to hide it thanks to the moonlight and his skin.

"Oh," Malik moved to lean against the thief. "Okay."

Bakura jumped slightly at the contact then looked at the blond, blinking in surprise. Letting out a deep breath, he forced himself to calm down. "...You're not upset because of what I just did?" he asked at length as he looked away again.

"No," Malik shook his head. "Why would I be? It didn't hurt."

Bakura blinked, as he looked at the other boy, surprised all over again. "You didn't mind that I...?"

Malik shook his head again. "No, I didn't mind."

Bakura blinked again, staring at the blond, before a mischievous smile crept across his face. "Good."

"Hm?" Malik tilted his head. What was that peculiar smile for?

However his attention was diverted from the smile thief as he noticed that the sky seemed to be changing, summoning the slave's attention to up above where the stars were fading away and the darkness was gradually changing to a light shade of blue, the moon no longer able to be seen.

"Ah? What?" Malik sat up sharply.

As the blond watched in amazement the sky was stained with an ever brightening rainbow of colors, so brilliant and beautiful that it took his breath away just as surely as the tickling Bakura had done to him only moments before. The source of the color and light was found straight ahead at the river, as the thief had told him before, which only made the view that much more spectacular, as all the colors glittered off of the water, making it look as if it were made completely of the finest jewels in the entire world.

Malik gasped and clung to Bakura, staring across the horizon in dumbfounded awe. It was so beautiful, like a gorgeous painting in the Pharaoh's palace.

Bakura smiled, gently, although the blond missed it, as he slipped an arm around the tanned boy and watched his companion watch his first sunrise.

Malik stared at the horizon, watching as the burning ball of gold slowly rose to the sky; its array of yellow, orange, and red driving away the night colors in a brilliant display.

Everything became quiet and still, save for the sun as it continued to rise and illuminate the sky with its unyielding light. The peace and awe of the moment seemed to cast a beautiful spell that ensnared the both of them.

Bakura found himself momentarily drawn to the stunning vision of sunrise before he looked back at Malik. What he saw took his breath away.

Malik's skin glistened in the oncoming sunlight, like highly polished bronze. His hair looked as though it was made of the Pharaoh's treasure, each strand comparable to a gold coin melted and reformed into silk without a single blemish. His brilliant violent eyes glistened, twin pools of liquid gemstone. He was, in all his glory, a treasure to be admired, making the fact that his father loathed him all the more criminal.

Bakura couldn't stop staring, as the sunrise seemed to transform Malik into nothing less than godly. He was so enraptured that for a moment or two he forgot how to breathe.

Malik was completely oblivious to Bakura's awe, staring at the sky. He had enough sense not to look directly at the sun, though not because it would hurt his eyes, but rather because his father said the sun god would be enraged if he did.

Either way, the sight was glorious.

Suddenly the blond was diverted from his gaze as the pale boy reached out to take a hold of his face and turn him towards his master.

"Huh?" Malik blinked repeatedly, startled from his reverence to find himself staring at Bakura.

He had no further time to react, however, as Bakura suddenly captured his lips in a tender kiss.

Malik gasped softly, surprised by the kiss. His eyes widened, his mind locking up as his head began to swim. The thief was kissing him...

The kiss lasted for as long as it took for the sun to rise completely over the horizon, as if the spell that it had cast was finally broken and thus ended the moment. Bakura pulled back slightly, eyes half closed, as he gazed at Malik, his expression hard to read save for the faint color in his cheeks.

Malik gasped for breath, his face bright red as he simply stared at Bakura. He had no idea how to respond or react as questions whirled around in his head. Why did the thief kiss him? What did it mean?

After a long stretch of silence with the two staring at each other the entire time, Bakura finally smiled wickedly. "You taste as divine as you look," he commented mischievously.

Malik's cheeks burned even brighter as he blinked repeatedly, and then fidgeted nervously. "I... no one's ever..."

Bakura chuckled slightly, looking quite amused despite his flushed cheeks. "Well... I've never done that to anyone, so we're even."

Malik nodded, albeit hesitantly, and gently touched his lips before looking at Bakura again. He was speechless, but something told him he had to say something. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind. "I..."

Thankfully the blond was spared from having to think of something, as Bakura suddenly yawned, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth as the other arm shifted slightly at the shoulder in a slight stretch. "Mmph," he muttered and then glanced at Malik. "As much as I'd like to stay up here, I'm tired. Let's go back to the cave."

Malik nodded, unable to stop himself as Bakura's yawn caused him to yawn as well. He rubbed his eyes, then paused and eyed Bakura hesitantly. "Can... can we do this again sometime?"

"Of course." Bakura grinned before he suddenly moved in to kiss the blond once again. Malik squeaked in surprise as he was kissed again. This kiss, however, was much shorter than the first, as Bakura pulled back and then stood up, still grinning in a smug and slightly mischievous manner. "Come on, let's go," he said as he reached down to help Malik up.

Malik stared at Bakura for a moment before reaching to take his hand, shaking slightly. He wasn't sure what the thief was thinking; he knew it couldn't have been just an innocent kiss. Thoughts of his previous fears returned as he wondered what _exactly_ the thief had in mind for his slave.

However, he had to admit...

He liked how Bakura tasted.


	5. Chapter Five

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter Five

----

It was incredibly boring having to lie in bed all day with nothing to do but sleep, eat, and heal. At least Malik thought so, which was why when Bakura had left for a while to get more medicine for him, he decided to once more sneak out of the room that they shared. Only this time he wanted to get a better look around the mysterious cave that was now his home.

Up until now Malik had only gotten to know the cluttered bedroom where he slept, the adjacent bathroom, and only passing looks at the large hallway that took him to the secret entrance and exit. He hadn't given as much thought to the mysterious cavern as he supposed that he should have, but Bakura and the temptation to be able to go outside had been too much to ignore.

The exploration started small, with the almost house-like area that contained the large yet messy bedroom Malik and Bakura slept in. There was a bathroom, a pair of small hallways, and three other bedrooms. The most unusual thing about it was that there was a set of stairs Malik hadn't noticed before because of a pile of treasure Bakura left in front of it. It took a bit of effort to make a path past it, but it allowed Malik to fully explore what seemed to be an entire home within a cave that seemed perfectly livable for an entire family.

Once Malik had finished taking in the details of the messy house-like living area, he felt more confident about exploring the rest of the mysterious cavern. While Bakura had given him no restraints about exploring his new home, still it wouldn't hurt to be careful and get back before the thief came back from his errand.

Malik was incredibly impressed by his surroundings, glancing around in awe. Seeing the clutter made him twitch involuntarily with an intense need to clean, but he struggled to ignore it for now. His years with his father had made him a bit of a clean-freak, as his survival depended on it, so seeing the mess around him was like poking an open wound. He'd clean it up later.

With that in mind, the young slave continued along his way through the hideout. He tried to ignore the various old bloodstains as he walked, making a mental note on trying to find a stiff brush to scrub them, up, and walked towards the main hallway.

Leaving through the carefully made stone door, Malik had to wonder, if for a moment, how it was possible to be made, and how easily it was to open and close; a slab of stone that size should have been able to easily snap off its slim metal hinges attaching it to the wall and crush him if he could have even managed to have moved something that heavy under normal circumstances. It was a bit unnerving to think about, so he tried not to, as he closed it behind him with a dull thud.

The massive main hallways with their incredibly high ceilings made the hideout feel more like what it was: a cavern. Though the walls here, like everywhere else, were smoothly carved. There were even some decorations on the walls, such as murals and even a few childish scrawls. Unfortunately, the occasional old bloodstain here and there marred the pleasant trappings.

"Well... it's certainly a nice place to live," Malik thought as he gingerly stepped around a bloodstain. "But then, compared to where I used to live... anywhere would be considered nice. I need to do something about those bloodstains, though..."

The young slave moved further along the hallway, glancing around as he chewed slightly on his lower lip. He knew he had his work cut out for him, judging from the clutter and numerous stains on the floor. Bakura apparently wasn't a very neat person, which made Malik's servitude make more sense.

The fact that he could get free kisses was an added bonus.

Malik stopped short and made a face. He really shouldn't think things like that. It wasn't as if Bakura had been demanding of him; in fact, his master had shown more compassion than anyone else ever showed him.

"Besides, cleaning's the only thing I'm good at, so why shouldn't I take over those duties?" Malik mused, crossing his arms. "...It'll be hard getting the blood out but I can get this place looking good in no time. That'll prove my worth to Bakura... and repay him at the same time."

Nodding to himself, the young slave resumed his journey down the hallway.

As Malik walked along the hallway he noticed that it seemed to curve slightly to the right. He passed by a number other stone doors, which he could only guess lead to other house-like areas of the hideout similar to the one Bakura and he shared. As he continued walking down the slightly right-bearing hallway he couldn't help but wonder how many homes there were here, and if that meant that other people were living there as well that he hadn't met yet.

However, as Malik opened the doors and peered inside, he found all of the rooms empty of life. The more doors the slave opened, the more he began to realize that he and Bakura truly were the only occupants of the cave. That fact alone made the cave feel much larger and empty - so much room, with only the two of them to fill it. Perhaps Bakura was lonely, living with so much empty space?

"It... almost seems like an empty town... just like..." Malik drifted off before shivering at the memory of the dead city. Even thinking of that place sent shivers down his spine. "Okay... time to change the subject."

Shaking his head to clear it, the boy continued along the hallway before he came to a stop, blinking. To his left on the wall was a set of curtains, separating the hallway to territories unknown.

The curtains, rather large and made of a thick and heavy looking material, were parted open on either side of a large side-passage. Down along the sides of this new straighter hallway there seemed to be a few intricately carved doors with some sort of strange designs on them he couldn't recognize. Beyond them towards the other end of the hall a glimmer of something shiny had caught the young slave's attention.

It looked as if there was a large amount of gold at the end of the hallway. Most likely it was another pile of Bakura's stolen treasure, but he was curious nonetheless. Some of the things the thief stole were quite beautiful, even if they were often times dirty or bloodstained.

Slowly, Malik stepped through the curtains as he peered down the side-passage. He half expected to find another room filled with ill-gotten loot; there seemed to be a lot of that in the bedrooms, which begged the question why the thief kept stealing if he had so much already at his disposal.

Resting at the end of the side-passage was a large altar, made of glittering gold. It was covered in runes that Malik couldn't recognize (not that he could read in the first place), which wrapped around the altar. Sitting on top of the altar was a large golden statuette of a jackal, much like the ones from the oasis, with fanned feathered wings. Its eyes were large, the left one made out of smooth sapphire while the right one looked like a clear white ball of glass. The strange contrast made Malik pause before peering at the right 'eye' more intently. It seemed odd that the eyes would be different, as it threw of the symmetry of the piece.

But then, who was he to judge? It wasn't as if he were an expert on statues.

"What are you doing here?"

Malik jumped with a cry and whipped about, his heart leaping into his throat.

Standing behind him was none other than Bakura. The thief appeared mildly tense, though he tried to hide it, as he held the box that usually contained the medicinal supplies he used on Malik. Out of the corner of his eye the blond noticed that one of the nearby doors was partially open, which had to have been where the silver-haired boy had come from to appear there so suddenly.

Bakura couldn't help but smile slightly at the tanned boy's reaction. "You seem jumpy," he observed.

"I... I didn't hear you," Malik replied as he held a hand to his chest, feeling his heart beating rather fast. "You startled me..."

"Sorry," Bakura snickered quietly, which indicated to the blond that he wasn't _too_ sorry. "Force of habit."

Malik huffed slightly, eying the thief, before he turned to glance back at the statue. "What... is that thing?"

Bakura shifted his gaze to the altar for a moment before turning back to the other boy. "That's an altar to the god Anubis," he explained before looking back at the golden visage of Anubis silently.

Malik blinked as he noticed Bakura's odd expression and was about to question him on it before the words fully sunk into his head. "...Anubis? _That_ Anubis?"

The thief blinked as he looked at the blond oddly before remembering that Malik had never been allowed to look at the gods before. "Yes, that Anubis," he confirmed. "He was one of the gods my people worshipped."

"Y-you mean, I... I... looked at a... a god...?" Malik's face drained of color, as the young slave looked absolutely stricken, which was exactly how he felt. He had done the one thing his father had told him _NEVER_ to do - look upon the graven image of a god.

"Malik?" Bakura asked as he moved closer to the other boy, noticing how the tanned boy turned quite pale. "What's wrong?"

"I looked upon a... a god...!" Malik whimpered, covering his mouth as he stepped back. "I... I... I didn't know! I didn't mean-!"

"Calm down," Bakura ordered. "It's not a big deal to look at a statue of a god."

"But I'm not supposed to! I... it's forbidden for-!" Malik whimpered, holding his head. "What have I done!?"

"Malik!" Bakura snapped to get his companion's attention. To help insure that he got it, he reached out with his free hand to grab the blond's shoulder so that he could whip his slave around to face him.

Malik jerked to attention and lifted his head to stare at Bakura, shaking slightly.

"Calm down and listen to me," the thief ordered firmly as he gazed into the other boy's violet eyes. "_Nothing_ bad will happen if you look at a statue or a drawing of a god. I doubt something bad will happen if you look at a god directly!"

"But I've... I've offended him! I... I..." Malik whimpered, his eyes watering. "He'll punish me... Maybe he already knew and he was the one that sent the jackals to prevent me from looking in the first place!"

"_Before_ you _accidentally_ looked?" Bakura asked as he quirked an eyebrow. "You didn't even know this was here in the first place! Besides, Anubis may have a jackal head, but that doesn't mean he has jackal minions."

"A-Anubis is the ruler of the dead... he could have minions anywhere-!" Malik paused before he covered his mouth. "I... I shouldn't even be saying his name! I... I've spoken blasphemy!"

Bakura gave his slave a dry look. "So? I've cursed at this statue before and I haven't been struck down yet."

Malik gawked at Bakura, as if he had just spoken on another language.

The bandit seemed nonplused at the look the blond was giving him. "Don't believe me? Then I guess I'll just have to show you." With that he turned towards the statue.

"W-wait-!" Malik cried out as he moved to grip Bakura's arm. "D-don't! You might upset him and he'll come after you-!"

"He hasn't yet so far," the silver-haired boy replied, shrugging off the blond's concern, before he unleashed a tirade of insults and curses that Malik's father would have been abashed to hear.

Malik stared at Bakura, absolutely horrified. He glanced between the thief and the statue, his shaking increasing as the thief's insults grew more and more degrading my the second. "B-Bakura, stop!"

At first it seemed as if the silver-eyed boy wasn't going to comply, but after a few moments he finally ceased damning the statue so that he could catch his breath, taking in deep gulps of air.

Malik trembled, his heart thundering so badly he could hear it in his ears. Without a word, the slave moved to wrap his arms around the thief and cling to him.

Bakura blinked as the other boy grabbed onto him, and was so startled he nearly dropped the box he held. "Malik?" he asked, confused.

Malik whimpered as he buried his face into Bakura's chest, shaking so badly he thought he might throw up. It was too much for him to take, to see Bakura tempting the gods themselves in to striking him down. Perhaps the gods had forgiven Malik for being born, for leaving the house, and even for removing his clothing but to go so far as to curse them to their faces? He felt as if his world would explode any moment.

Bakura stared at his slave, uncertain of what to do. "Hey... it's okay, Malik," he said quietly, trying to be soothing, as he reached around to lightly pat the other boy's back. "I'm fine. The gods didn't strike me dead on the spot with a lightning bolt. I doubt they actually listen to us at all, let alone care if we curse or worship them."

"But what if they do...?" Malik whimpered; his face buried in the thief's chest. "...I'd lose you..." That thought felt like a blow, confusing the poor boy further. He had only known the thief for a short time, but the thought of losing the one person who seemed to care if he breathed felt too horrible to even consider.

Bakura was rendered speechless, as he was caught off-guard by the quiet confession.

Malik pressed up against Bakura, shivering as his grip tightened. "I... I..."

"Malik..." Bakura said softly once he had recovered from his surprise. He wrapped his free arm around his companion and ran his fingers soothingly through the other boy's golden hair. "It's okay... You're not going to lose me."

Malik tightened his grip, as if he thought Bakura would suddenly disappear. "How do you know...?"

"Because the 'gods' tried to smite me before and failed," Bakura explained with a crooked grin. "Or the gods' 'messengers' I should say."

Malik lifted his head slightly to peek up at Bakura, sniffling quietly.

"When I was a child I used to worship the gods like any other person, but one day the gods' 'messengers' sentenced me and my people to death," Bakura explained in a quiet voice, his expression unusually subdued. "Since then I've been shown that the gods don't listen... or they just don't care."

"...You mean... that village...?" Malik's eyes widened.

"It used to be my home," Bakura whispered as he looked away, confirming his slave's suspicions.

Malik stared at Bakura, dumbfounded. He couldn't even begin to comprehend an entire village being sentenced to death.

"The Pharaoh ordered my village to be sacrificed... in the name of the gods..." Bakura continued with a quiet voice. He still didn't look at Malik, but rather looked towards the altar as he spoke.

Malik blinked slowly before burying his face in Bakura's chest again. He didn't know what to say to that; he didn't know if there was anything he _could_ say to that.

For a while neither said a word. They merely stood there holding one another in silence. Bakura was the first to speak. "Come on," he said as he lightly nudged the blond to move. "Let's go back to our room. I need to check your bandages."

Malik simply nodded, still clinging to Bakura. He seemed to have no intention to release his grip on the other boy.

At this the thief couldn't help but let out a short snicker. "Does this mean you want me to carry you?"

"Maybe," came the muffled response.

"Fine, then hold this," Bakura said, his tone amused, as he attempted to palm off the box he was carrying to Malik.

Malik paused, as he knew that to take the box, he would have to let go. After a moment of hesitation, he slipped one hand around to grab the box. However, even as that one hand relented its grip, the other tightened to make up the difference.

Bakura made a quiet sound at the tightening and blinked at the other boy before letting out a soft chuckle. "You're stronger than you look, Malik."

Malik's response was a quiet 'mwrf' as he clung to Bakura. He had to work hard, many hours of grueling labor, so it wasn't much of a surprise that he had some strength in his arms.

Taking that as a sign that the blond wasn't in the mood to talk any more right now, Bakura carefully whisked his slave up into his arms, despite how Malik's tight grip made things more difficult than normal. "Better?" he asked with a crooked smile on his face.

Malik gasped as he was scooped up. He blinked, glancing at Bakura, before nodding and moving to press against him. The contact reminded him that the thief was still there, that he was still there; it was reassurance he desperately needed.

It was then that Bakura suddenly decided to surprise Malik by stealing a gentle kiss, taking advantage of their closeness to taste his slave's sweet lips.

Malik squeaked in surprise, jumping slightly. The slave blinked slowly, his cheeks tinting as he reached up to touch his lips. The thief had kissed him again! And, much like before, it didn't bother him nearly as much as it should. Instead, it made him feel rather warm.

Bakura couldn't help but chuckle at the blond's embarrassment, but decided not to tease the other boy. Instead he turned and started back towards their bedroom.

Malik eyed Bakura, his blush darkening as he realized that the thief was laughing at him. With a huff, Malik looked away. This action caused his gaze to shift, glancing over the walls of the small passage way as they left it.

What Malik saw made his eyes snap into focus along the wall, giving him his first good look at the area surrounding the altar.

Before the golden shrine to Anubis in all its glory had distracted the slave from noticing its surroundings or Bakura coming up behind him, but now that the blond was no longer looking at the altar or fretting about seeing it at all, he got a clear view of the blood surrounding it. While in other areas there would be the occasional splatter of old blood, here it seemed to have at one time been gathered in abundance, as the numerous old and long since dried trails of gore clearly indicated. It almost looked as if there had been bloody corpses dragged towards the altar at one time, judging by how the blood stains streaked across the floor towards it.

Malik's eyes widened, darting all along the walls to follow the blood trails to where they ended.

The altar of Anubis.

The slave stared at the altar, surrounded by bloody trails that seemed to move towards it as if it were a focal point of a whirlpool of blood. The crusted, dried blood sharply contrasted with the gold, and yet drew the entire side passage towards the altar as if it too were part of it.

The altar stood, glimmering without a trace of blood or blemish on its smooth surface, as it seemed to watch Bakura and Malik's departure.

Malik shivered, disturbed by the sight, and quickly buried his face in Bakura's chest. He kept his face buried into the thief's chest as they walked away, leaving the silent statue alone once more in its small alcove of blood.

----

"And finally this is the bathing room."

After the incident at the altar of Anubis, Malik had become more desperate for Bakura's company, as he was terrified that the thief might leave and never return to him; struck down by the gods' wrath. He stubbornly clung to the silver-eyed boy despite the bandit's assurances and lighthearted jokes that if the silver haired man was struck down and Malik was too close, he would be struck down as well. However, the slave couldn't help but need to be close to his master, and informed the other boy that if Bakura was going to be smitten by the gods, then he would rather be smitten as well than be left all alone without his master.

Such a declaration silenced any further protests from Bakura about the subject.

At a loss for what to do, and having no desire to remain in bed all day, Bakura decided to show Malik around the rest of the cave. Unfortunately exploring the massive expanse of the hideout was rather tiring on a person who was carrying another on their back, even when they were as strong as the thief was.

Malik peeked up over Bakura's shoulder, clinging to him as he was carried piggyback around the cave. Though hardly dignified, the position saved him both the effort of walking around and kept him close to his master. He felt rather guilty for imposing on Bakura in such a way, but he just couldn't bear to let go. Too many things had been ripped away from him in the past few days for him to trust that Bakura wouldn't soon join them.

As Malik expected, the bathing area was just as spectacularly made as the rest of the cave, with high smooth walls and ceiling. Like the other exceedingly large chambers that were too big to be properly illuminated by torches on the walls, a cluster of glowing crystals hanging in the middle of the ceiling served to provide the main source of lighting for the room. The room itself contained a giant slightly raised bath built into the stone that was practically an underground river. Large decorative faucets, designed to look like the heads of various creatures Malik didn't recognize, were built into the far wall and what looked to be a furnace respectively. At the moment only a couple of faucets were flowing with water with the rest apparently stopped up or turned off.

There were numerous holes along the ceiling, much like the ones Bakura had pointed out as being for extra ventilation when they were in the kitchen. As Malik was looking upwards he also noticed, oddly enough, that one of the walls stopped before the ceiling, giving a slight peek into another room that contained more ventilation holes and another hanging crystal.

"Wow..." Malik blinked repeatedly, glancing around the room. It was by far the largest bathing room he had ever seen, completely dwarfing his father's; he suspected it even rivaled the Pharaoh's! "It's huge..."

"It's supposed to," Bakura said with a slight nod. "It was made for everyone living here to be able to clean themselves at once if it had to."

"...Ahh..." Malik tightened his grip around Bakura's neck. "Will we be... bathing together?"

The thief turned his head so that his passenger could see him smile wryly. "We already did bathe together before," he pointed out before pausing to 'muse' that thought over. "Although, you were unconscious at the time..."

Malik blinked at that, and then huffed. "I don't think that counts."

"You're just upset that you didn't get to see me naked too," Bakura teased as he turned back to stick his tongue out at the blond playfully.

Malik's face burned an even brighter red as he huffed before he reached up to poke at that tongue. "So? Seeing me naked isn't anything special."

Bakura made an odd noise at the poking before returning his tongue to his mouth. He paused to regard Malik oddly, as if the blond had spoken another language. "What are you talking about? Your body is practically perfect! If you didn't have those cuts you'd look like a god."

Malik made a face at that. He knew full well his body was an abomination. However, he knew better than to say that out loud; Bakura would get irritated at him.

Bakura was quiet for a moment before a mischevious smile crossed his face. "I bet you think I'm lying, but I'll make you see what I mean soon enough."

"Huh?" Malik blinked at that. "What do you mean...?"

"You'll see," Bakura said mysteriously before he turned his head forward and started walking towards the large bath.

Malik tightened his grip instinctively as he glanced between the large bath and Bakura. "See what? What're you planning...?"

Carefully the thief walked around piles of discarded dirty clothing until he stood right at the edge of the bath. "Who said I was planning anything?" he asked coyly as he sat down on the edge of the tub. He made sure to be careful and not bump his passenger's legs against it or to let his grip go loose on Malik.

"Um..." Malik made a face as he peered over Bakura's shoulder. "...What are you doing?"

"I was just thinking of taking a bath," Bakura said with an impish grin as he stood up again in the water.

"What, _now?!_" Malik's eyes widened. "But I'm...!"

Unfortunately Malik never got to finish his sentence, as once Bakura had gotten to a deep enough area in the water he suddenly hopped downwards onto his knees with a splash and a cry, dunking both of them in the frigid bath.

Malik let out a gargled cry as the freezing water immediately assaulted him, jarring his senses like a blow. The young slave panicked and immediately released Bakura, flailing as he tried to get up above the water to get a breath of air.

Thankfully for the panicked blond, a pair of strong arms wrapped around him and quickly pulled him to the surface almost immediately.

Malik choked, spitting up water as his hair and clothes clung to his skin. Slowly, the slave brushed back his bangs and blinked, looking thoroughly waterlogged.

"Are you okay?" Bakura asked as he held Malik close to his body, both to be sure that the blond wouldn't flail around any more, and for body heat, as the water was colder than he would have liked.

Malik coughed, and then eyed Bakura through his bangs. "...Y-you did that on p-p-purpose." he grunted, teeth chattering slightly.

"Of course," the thief said with a crooked smile. He then carefully picked the blond up into his arms and carried the other boy to the edge of the tub. Once there he set Malik down on the edge and sat beside his slave, so that they could get out of the too cold water.

Malik grimaced and sloshed out of the water, his clothes dripping wet and sagging like a sack of potatoes. He grimaced and wiped back his hair before grabbing the edge of his clothes and twisted them, trying to wring out the water. "F-F-freezing..."

"O-okay... so m-maybe I d-didn't think th-this though," Bakura admitted while trying to keep his shivering down. He then started to strip himself of his cold soaking wet clothes to try and get the frigid water off his skin as quickly as possible.

Malik squeaked as he realized the other boy was stripping down and immediately looked away. He shivered, his clothes clinging to his body even as he attempted to wring them out.

"You b-better t-take off y-your clothes t-too," Bakura said as he glanced over at the other boy once he had stripped himself of all his clothes.

"But... but... I c-can't...!" Malik whimpered, shaking his head. "I... it's n-not right f-f-for me to e-expose you t-to..."

Bakura made an irritated noise, as the cold wore down his temper and made him not in the mood to hear Malik berate himself again. "Take them off or you'll freeze!" the thief ordered.

Malik flinched instinctively at the tone in Bakura's voice before he quickly moved to comply, trembling. His clothes splattered against the ground as he dropped them by his feet, spraying water all over the floor.

"Good," Bakura sighed before standing up, wearing nothing but his soaked slippers. "W-wait here... I'll light the f-furnace and heat the b-bath." Without waiting for a reply he started to walk towards the faucets.

Malik simply nodded, bowing his head as he hunched his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around himself as he stood trembling, half due to the cold and half due to the fact that Bakura had snapped at him. He had almost forgotten his position; a slave should _never_ argue with his master...

Malik lowered his gaze to the floor. He had been a bit disagreeable, something his father would never have tolerated. Who was he to disagree with the thief? No one at all, that's who. He only hoped the bandit wasn't angry with him for proving to be a disagreeable slave.

"...He's snapped at me before..." Malik thought, grimacing as he remembered that argument over the food. It slowly occurred to the tanned boy that by arguing what a slave should and should not do, he was doing exactly what a slave shouldn't do. In other words, by trying to be a good slave, he was being a bad slave. "...I screw up when I try to do something right..."

"What was that?" Bakura asked as he leaned in close to his slave.

Malik squeaked and jumped to attention, jerking back as he found himself face to face with Bakura. He had been so absorbed with his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed the other boy approach him. "Ah-!? W-what was what...?"

Bakura regarded his slave for a moment, his arms crossed over his chest. "You're blaming yourself again," he observed before suddenly poking Malik's nose. "Stop it."

"Eeep-!" Malik yipped before covering his nose, blinking repeatedly. He stared at Bakura, startled and more than a little confused by Bakura's behavior. Wasn't his master angry with him?

"Better," Bakura grinned before sitting down on the edge of the tub near the blond. "The bath should be warm enough to use in a few minutes. It takes a while to heat up water for something that big," he explained as he kicked off his squishy slippers.

"I... see?" Malik murmured, keeping his nose covered as he eyed Bakura. He sat down slowly, mindful of his wet clothing, before pausing to gawk at the bandit's naked form - once he realized Bakura _was_ naked, that is.

The silver haired boy noticed that he was being stared at and cocked his head to the side slightly as he looked back at the blond. "Hmm?"

Malik paused before looking away, face red. "N-nothing..." It wasn't polite to stare, even if Bakura's skin looked as smooth and soft as pure milk. The thief's muscular body certainly gave him the impression of looking much older than he really was, which Malik credited to the other boy's lifestyle. He imagined that being a thief would force someone to grow up quickly.

Bakura looked at the blond quietly as he felt as if he should say something, but couldn't think of anything. At a loss for what else to do he allowed his eyes to wander across the tanned boy's body as they waited for the water to heat.

Malik could practically feel Bakura's eyes looking over his body, causing his face to tint an even darker shade of red. He knew the boy had seen him naked before, but he still wasn't used to such personal scrutiny.

"I need to take those bandages off," Bakura commented as he noticed how the water had ruined the bandages covering Malik's body. It didn't bother him really, as he would have had to take them off anyway to bathe the blond. With that in mind he reached out to remove them.

Malik blinked and turned to look at Bakura as the boy moved to remove his bandages. Normally he would have flinched at the contact, but he was slowly getting used to his master's touch; after all, he was certainly touched enough by Bakura to have plenty of chances to get used to it.

Bakura made a face as he noticed something. "You've been scratching your wounds," he accused as he gazed into the other boy's lavender eyes.

"Ah?" Malik immediately snapped to attention. "Y-you can tell-!?"

"I don't have to." Bakura smiled smugly before he poked the other boy's nose lightly. "You just confessed."

Malik squeaked and covered his nose again, blinking slowly before it dawned on him that he had been tricked. "Ah-! Oh... um..."

Bakura chuckled as he smiled smugly at the other boy. "You better not do it again," he chided once his mirth died down slightly. "Or else."

"O-or else...?" Malik's eyes widened.

Bakura's smile turned rather mischievous. "Or else I'll just have to tie you to the bed until you're healed."

Malik blinked at that before cocking an eyebrow, dubious. "Really?"

"Care to find out?" Bakura challenged as he leaned in closer to gaze intently into the blond's eyes.

Malik shook his head vigorously, leaning back away from Bakura. "N-no, no!"

"Good." Bakura straightened, still smiling. "Then don't scratch." With that he returned to the task of removing the tanned boy's bandages.

Malik eyed Bakura as his bandages were removed, mentally debating whether Bakura would really do such a thing. He knew his father would (though for more painful reasons) but he had a hard time imagining Bakura doing something like that. But then again, the thief had tied him up before when he kidnapped him; yet again, those were different circumstances entirely.

Bakura didn't seem to notice Malik staring at him, or ignored it, as he tossed aside a number of the spent bandages. "You need to either stand up or lie down so I can get these off," he suddenly said as he patted the tanned boy's hip, dangerously close to the blond's rear.

Malik blushed brightly at that, then nodded and moved to stand up. The ground looked cold and wet - something he already was and didn't want to become more so.

"Spread your legs a bit," Bakura ordered as he reached out to touch Malik's bandaged thigh.

Malik grimaced and moved to comply, trying to ignore how suggestive the thief's words were. He felt so embarrassed, standing exposed under the scrutiny of Bakura. At the very least, he tried to protect his dignity by covering his front with his hands.

"Move your hands," Bakura said as he started to undo the other boy's bandages. "They're in the way."

Malik made a slight noise, hesitating for a moment before moving his hands. His face burned with embarrassment as he shifted nervously.

Bakura glanced upwards at the blond's face, noticing the tanned boy's discomfort. "I've seen you naked before you know," he pointed out.

"I... I know..." Malik admitted, his voice breaking. "B-but I was embarrassed then too...!"

"I noticed," Bakura said wryly before he resumed removing the other boy's bandages. He moved his hands slowly as he did so, taking greater care in removing those wrapped around or closely to Malik's more delicate areas than he did for any of the other bandages on the blond's body.

Malik glanced away; trying not to watch how close Bakura was working. He hoped to just ignore the thief, thus making the process as painless as possible. Unfortunately, the fact that Bakura had such soft hands made it rather difficult to ignore.

"You're shaking," Bakura suddenly pointed out, interrupting the tanned boy's thoughts.

"E-eh?" Malik blinked and glanced down at Bakura only to make a thin squeak as he noticed where the thief's gaze was.

After a moment Bakura looked upwards towards the tanned boy's face. "You're shaking," he repeated.

"Ah... w-well... I..." Malik looked absolutely mortified.

Bakura quirked an eyebrow upwards. "So you're still embarrassed even though I'm naked too?"

"W-well... it's n-not so much that as... well..." Malik's eyes shifted to look at Bakura's hands, which rested on his inner thigh quite dangerously.

Bakura's gaze shifted downwards as well towards what the blond was looking at. "Oh."

Malik grinned slightly, letting out a nervous giggle. He didn't know what to say, particularly since Bakura's face was very close to his personal areas. What exactly could he say in such a situation?

The thief glanced up at his slave's face for a moment before he returned his concentration to what he was doing without another word.

Malik watched Bakura for a moment before looking away, taking a few deep breaths. Bakura was not gawking at his "goodies". He didn't have any "goodies" worth gawking at. For him to think that the thief would even _care_ about that area was arrogant and unbefitting of a slave.

Of course his thoughts came to a crashing halt when he felt his master's soft hand brush against those "goodies" that he was fretting over.

Malik's eyes immediately bugged out as he tensed completely, sucking in air with a sharp hiss.

"Sorry," Bakura muttered as he noticed the other boy's reaction to his accidental brush, and took greater care not to repeat it.

Malik let out a gasp once he realized he had been holding his breath, then shivered and shook his head. "N-no, I... just I... no one's ever..."

"Hmm?" Bakura blinked as he glanced back up at the blond's face.

"Um... never mind," Malik fidgeted. Of course Bakura hadn't meant to brush there _on purpose_. Why would he have?

Bakura looked at his slave silently, as if debating something.

Malik's fidgeting increased as he felt himself being scrutinized by Bakura. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to imply that..."

"You don't want me touching you there is what you mean," Bakura stated, interrupting the blond. He then shifted his gaze back downwards so that he could resume his work.

"N-no! That's not-!" Malik paused before his face burned red. Why was he protesting _that_ of all things!?

Bakura paused, blinking, before he looked back up at his slave with a dumbfounded expression on his face. "You _want_ me to touch you there?"

"Er..." Malik's eyes widened as he stared at Bakura, a classic 'deer in headlights' look.

The thief and slave stared at each other in silence for a number of moments. "Do you want me to touch you there?" Bakura asked in a quiet voice after a few more moments had passed.

"I... I..." Malik could hear all the conflicted voices in his head, screaming to be heard above the raging chaos. Part of him screamed an adamant "NO!" while another pointed out it hadn't been an _unpleasant_ feeling. Yet another voice commented on his duties as a slave while a fourth voice insisted he was assuming Bakura had wanted to touch him when all the thief had done was ask _him_ if _he_ wanted it. "I... don't... know..." he finally said, at length.

It was about a minute before Bakura responded as he stared at his slave intently. "I see..." He then returned his attention to removing the bandages from the tanned boy's body. He wasn't sure what to think of what Malik had said.

"Does that... upset you...?" Malik asked, softly.

Bakura didn't look up from what he was doing as he worked lower down the tanned boy's legs. "Not really."

"...Did you... did you want to touch me?" Malik couldn't help his voice breaking slightly.

Bakura was silent as he thought about that question. Truth be told, he did enjoy touching Malik, even if the blond would get flustered over it. Sometimes he liked making the other boy flustered, and the squeaks Malik would make when he poked the tanned boy were absolutely adorable. "Not if you don't want me to," he said quietly.

"...Ah..." Malik grimaced, as that really didn't answer the question at all. He wasn't used to having any say, as he rarely knew which option wouldn't get him in trouble. "I... don't want it if you don't want it..."

Bakura paused to consider that before glancing up at his slave with an odd expression on his face. "So if I wanted it... you would want it?"

Malik imagined he couldn't blush any brighter without fainting. He didn't like the way this conversation was going; he had more than enough embarrassment for one day. "I... I don't know... maybe..."

"You don't sound very certain," Bakura pointed out as he gazed intently into the other boy's lavender eyes.

Malik hesitated, before shrugging. "I just... no one's ever asked me that before... and no one's ever, well, _wanted_ to touch me... there."

"Well... now you do," Bakura said quietly before he looked away. "And everywhere else you'll let me."

Malik gawked at Bakura, then glanced down at his feet and fidgeted. "O-oh... well... I guess it's okay... if it... doesn't hurt...?" Mentally, his mind screamed that he had just given permission to be groped; but then again, since when did a master need permission?

Again there was a period of silence as Bakura mulled that over. "Does that mean you want me to touch you?" he asked as he glanced at the blond out of the corner of his eye, trying to read the other boy's reaction.

Malik trembled as he shifted slightly, his head starting to spin. The conversation had gone on for way too long, as far as he was concerned. His face was as red as an apple and the room seemed as if it were starting to spin. Too much was happening, way too fast; the fact that a lot of blood was rushing to his face didn't help matters.

Before he knew it, he had started to fall backwards towards the floor. He vaguely heard Bakura shout his name and felt a warm touch, before everything went black.


	6. Chapter Six

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter Six

----

Malik groaned as he slowly opened his eyes, his head still spinning in circles around him. He had been so embarrassed, so overwhelmed and flustered - he must have passed out without realizing it.

Darkness greeted Malik, much like the other times he woke up. As he slowly became more awake, he grew increasingly aware that he was laying on the silk sheets of the bed he and Bakura shared, and that a warm body was spooned up against his back.

"Uhn...?" Malik blinked slowly. He made to roll over slightly, only to find such an action proved to be a big mistake. He let out a soft cry as he felt as though the entire room just flipped upside-down. "Wah-!"

"Malik?" came Bakura's concerned voice. "Are you okay?"

"B-Bakura?" Malik squeaked, then whimpered as he reached out, feeling for something to hold onto. "I... the room is spinning..."

Much to the blond's relief, his master took his hand gently. "It's okay... just relax and don't move," Bakura said in a soothing tone.

Malik gripped the thief's hand tightly, feeling relieved as it brought him some sense of balance. "I just... got so dizzy... I must have fainted..."

"You did," Bakura confirmed as he laced his fingers with the other boy's. "You've been out for a few hours."

"Hours?" Malik blinked at that. A few minutes he could understand, but hours? Passing out from embarrassment for _hours_ was worse than the embarrassment itself! "I... I'm sorry. I... didn't mean to..."

"Don't worry about it." Bakura began to run his fingers gently through the blond's hair with his free hand. "Just relax."

"Is it... normal for people to pass out like that...?" Malik asked, gripping Bakura's hand tightly. He leaned slightly into the thief's touch, glancing in the general direction he thought the bandit's face might be.

"Not really," Bakura admitted truthfully. "But don't worry about it. It happens sometimes when something is too much for you to handle."

"Oh..." Malik had to admit that made sense. The entire conversation had been moving too fast; it was too much for him and he had wanted it over as quickly as possible. He just never considered fainting to do that.

"You can go back to sleep if you want."

Malik made a face at that, and then moved to roll over. Unfortunately, his balance had still not returned so he found himself falling on top of Bakura. "Wah-!"

"Careful!" the thief yelped as he quickly caught the other boy and cradled his slave carefully in his arms. "You need to stay still."

Malik made a noise as he rested against the thief, thankful for the warm body against his. It gave him an anchor, proving to him that the room was, in fact, not spinning. "Tell the room to stay still!"

Bakura couldn't help but chuckle softly, tickling the blond's ear. "Only if you stay still too."

Malik made a slight noise in response, and then sighed. He pressed his forehead to Bakura's chest, closing his eyes as he struggled to relax. He felt warm and safe like this, curled up against his master. Perhaps a bit too warm, but heat was nothing new in a desert.

Suddenly he felt Bakura's hand remove itself from his own before he was moved away from the thief's chest. Before he could protest or express his confusion, he felt what was apparently Bakura's forehead pressed against his own.

"You're burning up," Bakura said after a moment, his voice sounding concerned once more.

"Ah...?" Malik blinked slowly, and then made a face. "I'm just... a little warm... that's all. It's a desert... hard not to be warm..."

"No, you have a fever," Bakura said as he carefully moved the other boy in his arms to a more comfortable position, taking care to move slowly so that Malik wouldn't get dizzy again. "I think your wounds have made you sick."

"A fever...?" Malik repeated, his voice sounding faint - even to him. He had gotten a fever before, so he knew what it was like; it was back during the first days of his life as a slave when his sister had gone to work at the temple. His father had been very cruel then, beating him daily. After Malik had gotten sick and nearly died, his father made sure it never happened again.

Though, not for any concern for Malik. Malik's sickness had drawn too much attention to him. Even Isis had found out about it and came home, nursing the boy back to health. "No good... that's no good..."

"Calm down," Bakura said, trying to sound soothing. "It'll be okay. You just need to rest." He began running his fingers gently through the blond's hair. "Do you need anything? Some water maybe?"

"No more... water..." Malik muttered. He had more than enough experiences with water for one day. "So tired... spinning..."

Bakura made a soft shushing sound as he held the other boy closer to his body in an attempt to help Malik's dizziness. "Just sleep then."

Malik murmured in response as he cuddled against his master, sighing. He was quickly getting used to feeling someone pressed up against him due to how the silver haired boy would cuddle him every night so he didn't really think much of it anymore.

The sound of Bakura singing softly and soothingly to him also served to help relax him.

At that, Malik's eyes opened slightly. Bakura was singing again, so soft and quiet. He didn't recognize the song, save for the fact that it was the same song the silver-eyed boy had sung to him a number of nights before, but that didn't matter. It made him feel better.

Malik's eyes closed again as he listened to the thief, letting the song lull his senses into a blissful state. It made him forget how warm he felt as well as how the room wouldn't stop spinning. It made him forget many things, settling into a quiet state of rest.

Bakura let out a soft sigh as Malik drifted off to sleep, ending his song. Despite the darkness he could easily see how flushed the other boy's face was, as well as how sickly the blond appeared.

As the thief carefully slipped out of the tanned boy's arms and crept silently for the medicine, he couldn't help but hope that the other boy would recover quickly.

Even with advanced sorcerer medicine, sickness was still dangerous, especially in a desert.

----

_ Pain. Sharp, burning pain coursed through him in unimaginable ways. So hot, tearing, and searing._

_ "Hold still."_

_ Malik let out a strangled noise as he squirmed, yet found he couldn't move his body. He felt as if he were bound all over. The slave barely had a chance to cry out before another wave of pain seared through him, coming directly from his back._

_ "You DON'T want me to make a mistake."_

_ Slowly, so slowly, the flaming knife dragged along his back, burning his flesh as it was sliced open with a casual calmness akin to someone serving dinner._

_ Malik screamed, though it sounded muffled for some reason, as his eyes watered. The burning increased, coursing through his veins as it felt as if his very blood was liquid fire._

_ "This is your fate. Surrender to it!"_

_ Malik wailed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he thrashed as best he could. "Help me! Someone, help me!"_

_ "Knock it off!"_

_ "Y-YAH-!?" Malik cried out in surprise at the sudden familiar voice, his eyes bugging out as all at once the burning stopped. Gasping, Malik jerked about to find himself standing in an alley, staring face to face with Bakura. Oddly enough, the thief was wearing a white and blue striped shirt, a light teal jacket, and blue-gray jeans. "Bakura-!?"_

_ Bakura smiled in an almost sinister manner as he held the knife casually in his hand. The blade glowed red-hot as smoke and the scent of burning flesh slowly dissipated from it. "What's a little sacrifice?" he asked with a note of amusement in his voice._

_ Without warning the thief suddenly slashed open his own left arm._

_ "Bakura, don't-!" Malik gaped, horrified. "What are you doing!?"_

_ Instead of blood, a thick black substance that resembled something close to tar dribbled out from the wound, staining Bakura's flesh a sickly purple as it made its way downwards. "It's all a game isn't it?" Bakura asked as he removed his jacket so that he could use the parts of it that the blackness didn't already dissolve to wipe the blade clean. The fact that the flow seemed only to be increasing and that his body appeared poisoned wherever the tar-like fluid touched didn't seem to bother him at all. "One sacrifice. Two. Three. 99? 101?"_

_ "B-Bakura... what's... what's happening...? What's that...?" Malik stepped back, staring as the black substance spouted out, splattering across the ground and staining it._

_ Bakura tossed his jacket as it dissolved into nothing. The blackness covered his arm completely as it flowed like a miniature waterfall to the ground. "Forever and ever," he said smugly as he smirked at the blond. "The graveyard or removed from play with no card." His grin became quite vicious, almost demented, as the black substance formed into a large pool at his feet. "My deck is a few cards short."_

_ Suddenly a giant clawed arm lashed out from the black "blood" to snatch Malik within its massive grip._

_ Malik let out a startled scream as he was grabbed, then squirmed and kicked at the hand. He let out a sharp cry before he was yanked into the puddle by the massive claw._

_ Malik squealed as he tumbled across the ground, crying out as he suddenly slammed to a stop. He laid there, dazed, in darkness, not sure of what was going on around him._

_ "Ack! Stupid cat!_

_ Suddenly there was light and Malik looked up to find Bakura lying on a sofa in a room he didn't recognize. The thief wore a t-shirt and jeans like before in the alley, but he held no knife or cut. Instead there was a small tabby kitten sitting on the silver haired boy's chest as he lay on the sofa, apparently having been trying to take a nap._

_ Malik blinked and rubbed the back of his head, then quickly fumbled to his feet. "Bakura...?"_

_ Bakura glanced at Malik before his gaze returned to the kitten on his chest. "I swear, every time I want some peace this fur-ball comes to yowl in my face," he huffed, uncharacteristically sulky._

_ The kitten purred softly, curling up slightly as if getting ready to go to sleep. It sleepily licked at one of its tiny paws, fluffing up happily._

_ Suddenly the kitten had striped wings, making it look like a dragon. It meowed adorably, showing off row after row of razor sharp teeth, before it licked the silver-eyed boy's nose._

_ Bakura blinked then grunted and wiped his nose. "Stop doing that!" he protested, apparently not noticing the kitten's change in appearance._

_ Malik gawked, his jaw dropping. He stared in disbelief at the mutated kitten, though he was even more bewildered by the fact that Bakura didn't seem to notice._

_ Bakura looked at Malik accusingly. "What?" he asked, irritated. "Are you going to laugh again?"_

_ "The... cat... it's... it's not...!" Malik stuttered, pointing at the no-longer-feline._

_ Without waiting for an answer Bakura picked up the mutant kitten by the scruff of the neck and placed it on the back of the sofa before he got up onto his feet. "You know what I think about that," he said, despite the fact that the statement made no sense. "Let's go." He then walked past the other boy._

_ "What do you think about what?" Malik blinked in confusion. What was the thief talking about? "Where are we going?"_

_ "Why are you looking for him?" a tiny voice asked, causing Malik to glance around before staring in disbelief at the kitten. The tiny dragon-feline licked its lips, and then grinned. "He's dead. Just let it go."_

_ "Let it go-!? What are you talking about!?" Malik demanded, growing agitated._

_ "Are you coming or not?" Bakura asked, drawing Malik's attention back towards him. Oddly enough he was now dressed in an oversized black trench coat that twisted and curled sharply at the edges, giving a rather eerie appearance to the thief. However, this was offset by the fact that Bakura now suddenly sported a pair of large mismatched rabbit ears on his head; one brown, the other silver, just like his eyes were now. He sat in an exceedingly large unusually shaped chair in front of a small round table. On top of the pink and white-checkered tablecloth was a mismatched tea set._

_ "...Bakura?" Malik quirked an eyebrow, trying to resist the urge to crack a grin at the thief's new attire. "What's with the rabbit ears? Grew tired of just having rabbit spikes in your hair?"_

_ "You're one to talk," Bakura calmly retorted as he pointed casually at the blond. He then picked up the cup of hot tea in front of him and took a sip._

_ "Uh..." Malik blinked before making a face. "What's that supposed to-!" All at once, the tanned boy gave a start and gawked at his clothing. He wore a rather ridiculous old suit with an extremely high color. Blinking repeatedly, Malik felt up on the top of his head and gave a cry as he felt a massive top hat resting there._

_ "Should we have an unbirthday party or a deathday party?" Bakura asked, acting as if he didn't notice how surreal things were, or he simply didn't care. "We don't have enough candles either way."_

_ "What're you babbling about!?" Malik grunted as he proceeded to yank off the top hat before peering down into it._

_ "CHUUUU!" came a high pitched cry as a tiny jackal head popped out of the hat, beaming up at Malik with a toothy grin. He had one bright blue eye, while his right eye was without a pupil. He wore the most bizarre outfit, of red silk with white trim decorated with golden runes. The tiny jackal wiggled his ears, which fit snuggly around his golden headdress before fanning his tiny golden wings._

_ "WHAT THE-!" Malik jumped backwards, dropping the hat._

_ The tiny jackal squawked as the hat was dropped (and him with it). The top hat hit the ground, then twirled about as the tiny jackal disappeared into it with a startled "Chuu!?"._

_ "You know, deathday parties aren't much fun."_

_ "E-eh?" Malik looked up, more than a little rattled by the hat incident. "What...?"_

_ Unfortunately Bakura was gone. In fact, everything was gone, leaving Malik with nothing but darkness._

_ Malik jumped, and then whipped around. "Bakura? BAKURA! Where did you go!?"_

_ "I guess you're right," came Bakura's voice from the darkness. "I shouldn't have listened."_

_ Suddenly from out of the darkness Malik spotted a disturbingly familiar glowing golden eye._

_ Malik stopped short and turned to stare at the golden eye, his own eyes widening drastically. "Bakura...?" he breathed, as if he were afraid to be heard._

_ The eye appeared to move closer, and soon enough the blond could see what it was attached to._

_ Bakura emerged from the darkness, still wearing the twisted trench coat, but he no longer had his rabbit ears or his shirt. On his chest was a carving of the Millennium Ring, which matched the scars on Malik's back; save they seemed much deeper, almost like cracks. The mark of the Millennium Item's eye glowed brilliantly on his chest, exactly where it rested on the real Millennium Item._

_ "Too late now, I guess," Bakura said impassively, as if he no longer cared about much of anything. He stood with his hands in his pockets and shrugged a little._

_ "What's too late...?" Malik found himself asking, his stomach clenching._

_ Bakura looked as if he was about to answer when he jerked slightly, his eyes widening as his pupils shrank to dots. He threw his head back and let out a strangled scream, as his body seemed to split open right at the mark on chest. From the split a giant black dragon head emerged and seemed to pull the thief into it as it grew in size._

_ Malik stared in horror, his entire body trembling. He felt as if the very breath had been taken from his body, robbing him of speech and leaving nothing but a feeling of dread form like icicles inside of him._

_ Nothing less than the ultimate evil loomed before him. The darkness clung to it like a shroud; its body may have been nothing but darkness. The only thing that clearly stood out any more was its giant blood red eyes, which gazed down upon him hungrily, and the rows of giant white gleaming teeth that more resembled spikes than anything else._

_ Malik trembled as he slowly shook his head, stepping back slightly as he struggled to gather his voice. "N... nn... n..." His eyes widened, as the creature loomed closer, opening its maw wide to reveal a gaping hole lined with teeth. "No... no...!" Malik squeaked as the monster leaned forward before diving at him with a snarl. The young boy let out a cry as he scrambled backwards, his eyes wide as saucers as the monster descended upon him._

"_NO!_" Malik screamed as he sat up, his skin slick with sweat. "NO! BAKURA-!"

"It's okay, Malik," Bakura said as he reached out to gently take a hold of the blond and pulled the other boy close to his body to assure Malik that he was there. "I'm right here. You were having a nightmare. Calm down."

Malik trembled as he clung to the thief, gasping for breath as he stared at nothing. The young slave's hair clung to his sweaty brow, his skin unnaturally pinked from the heat of his own body, as he whimpered. "No... no... Bakura... don't go..."

"I'm here, Malik," Bakura said soothingly into the feverish boy's ear. "I'm right here." He began running his fingers through the blond's hair in an effort to soothe the other boy. "I'm not going anywhere."

Malik gulped down air as he clung to Bakura, his trembling easing only slightly as his eyes started to droop. The slave let out a soft whine as he leaned against his master before settling down once more.

Bakura couldn't help but let out a soft sigh of relief as he watched his slave drift back to sleep. Malik had been sick for well over a day now and his fever had yet to break, despite the medicine the thief used on him. This troubled Bakura greatly. If the other boy didn't get better soon, he wasn't sure what he'd do.

Malik moaned and shifted slightly, once again caught in his disturbing fever dream. He let out a soft whimper, gripping Bakura's arm in a clammy vice grip.

Bakura let out another sigh as he rubbed the sick boy's back soothingly. He paused as he noticed the damp washcloth had fallen off of Malik's head and picked it up, dipping it in the bowl of water on the small table beside the bed before placing it back across the blond's forehead. All he could do right now was wait until Malik's fever broke or it was time to give the other boy more fever medicine; whichever came first.

Malik whimpered as he felt the washcloth touch his forehead, flinching slightly before going still. He gave a heavy sigh, his body shaking at the effort. He looked so pale, so sickly... it was as if he were wasting away.

"Malik..." Bakura couldn't help but whisper softly as he took in every detail of the other boy's sickly form. He took the washcloth again and gently dabbed it across the blond's face all over in an effort to bring more relief to his slave. "You have to start getting better, Malik..."

Malik's only response was his labored breathing.

After soaking the washcloth again in water and then replacing it on the blond's forehead, Bakura let out a weary sigh. The past day had been one of the most stressful that he had ever known. Only very few incidents in his past could top what he was experiencing right now, and those always involved death.

The thought created an icy tightness in the pit of Bakura's stomach. "No, Malik is _not_ going to die," he hissed though his teeth, trying to assure himself of that fact. He would never allow his companion to die; even if he had to he'd swallow his pride and take Malik to a doctor in the Pharaoh's city. The main thing that prevented him from doing so already was that he was certain that his medicine was better than anything the doctor could have had. Sorcerer medicine was the best after all.

"No... no... don't let him... get me... Bakura..." Malik whimpered, interrupting the thief's thoughts. "Help me..."

Bakura's attention immediately returned to the other boy and he pulled the feverish blond closer. "It's okay, Malik," he whispered in the tanned boy's ear soothingly. "No one's ever going to take you from me."

Malik murmured something incomprehensible as he cuddled up against the thief, seeking his warmth despite the overwhelming heat his body held.

Bakura felt some small amount of relief as he felt his slave relax against him before lying still once more. "No one's taking you away from me, Malik," he whispered. "Not your father, not death, or even the gods themselves."

Malik shivered in response, though he didn't hear or truly understand what was being told to him, and buried his face in Bakura's chest.

At the quiet declaration the thief had to pause for a moment to think about what he had just said. In spite of other concerns weighing heavily on his mind, he couldn't help but quietly marvel at himself and how attached he had gotten to Malik in such a short period of time. When he was a child he swore to never become close to anyone again, yet he now found that he had broken that promise with Malik.

Somehow, someway, the timid, weak, yet lovable slave had slipped past all of Bakura's defenses. Even though they had only known each other for not so many days, the thief couldn't picture his life without the other boy in it. It was surprising, as well as frightening, considering the reason Bakura dared not get close to anyone was that the gods and destiny seemed to conspire to remove everyone of importance from his life.

Unfortunately it seemed to be the case again now with Malik's terrible fever. There was a very real possibility that the tanned boy could die from it, and that possibility terrified Bakura in spite of himself.

"You're not going to take him away from me too," the thief thought as he clutched his slave a little closer. "I'm not going to let you take Malik away." He glared up at the ceiling, as if he could see through the darkness and stone to the gods themselves up above. "Do you hear me?" he hissed aloud. "You're not taking Malik! He's _mine_!"

Maybe it was the fact that he had cursed Anubis' statue that had caused this to happen, as Malik had been perfectly alright up until then; save for the blond's numerous injuries at least. At the thought of all the wounds covering the tanned boy's body, Bakura had to count them both lucky that Malik merely had gotten sick rather than had his wounds infected.

At that thought Bakura decided that now might be a good time to change the blond's bandages. He then paused as he noticed something: Malik wasn't shaking anymore.

"Malik?" Bakura whispered tentatively, uncertain of whether this was a good or bad sign.

Malik slumbered, breathing peacefully as he cuddled against Bakura. His face was no longer twisted in pain, nor was his skin burning to the touch. The sweat still remained, but he looked very peaceful - and definitely alive.

Bakura stared at the other boy before he moved to touch his forehead to the tanned boy's. At noting how cool it felt verses before he sighed audibly then practically collapsed against the bed with relief, a smile on his face.

Malik's fever had finally broken.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter Seven

----

"But Bakura..."

"No! You're still staying in bed!"

"But..." Malik whined as he sat on the bed, slumping his shoulders.

"You _still_ have a fever!" Bakura stated as he crossed his arms over his chest. He stood beside the bed, looking down sternly at the other boy, determined not to let his slave win the argument.

"But I don't feel _that bad_ anymore..." Malik huffed. Ever since Bakura had realized the boy had a fever, Malik found himself completely bedridden, even after the fever had broken and his temperature was merely a little higher than normal. The thief wouldn't even let him get up to go to the bathroom, instead carrying him wherever he needed to go somewhere. After a few days of this, the poor slave was more than a little tired of bed rest. "Can't I get up, for just a little while?"

"Not until your fever is _completely_ gone," Bakura stated firmly. "If you exhaust yourself or get dizzy and faint again, you could relapse and get worse!"

"Buuuuut..." Malik pouted, jutting out his lower lip.

"Don't give me that look!" Bakura snapped before letting out a huff. "I'm _not_ going to give in. Your fever's almost gone and your wounds are almost healed, so you won't be in bed any longer than another day or two, so _wait_ a little longer."

"But I'm tired of waiting!" Malik complained. "I'm tired of waiting, tired of resting, tired of sleeping! Any longer and I may forget how to walk!"

Bakura couldn't help but roll his eyes at how overdramatic the other boy was being. "No you won't."

Malik huffed and continued to pout, jutting out his lower lip sulkily.

Bakura met the blond's pouting gaze steadily, his cheek twitching slightly, before he finally turned away. "I said _NO_ and that's the end of this discussion!" he declared.

Malik groaned and flopped back against the bed, flailing his arms. "BUT-! BAKURAAAAAAAA-!"

Bakura immediately whirled around as he heard the blond's limbs impacting against the bed. "Stop that!" he snapped as he strode over to the bed. "Don't make me tie you down so you can't move!"

Malik immediately stopped, jumping slightly at his master's tone. He peered up to blink at Bakura, and then grunted. "But what else can I do...? You try sitting still for days!"

Bakura leaned in close, speaking in a short but authoritative manner. "I have, and it's insanely frustrating, but you have to or you won't get better."

Malik squeaked as he found himself face to face with Bakura. He blinked slowly, and then whined as he found the thief's gaze difficult to hold. "Fine, fine..."

Bakura let out a sigh of relief in spite of himself as he straightened. "Good. Now wait here and I'll bring you some breakfast. What would you like to eat?"

"Anything," Malik replied, sighing wearily. "It's not like I need to eat to keep up my energy!"

"Fine," Bakura huffed as he put his hands on his hips. "Just as long as you _stay in bed_, you can act like a brat all you want to." With that he turned sharply on his heel and strode out the door.

"I'm not a brat," Malik pouted, though he kept his voice low so Bakura couldn't hear him. "You're the brat."

There was no response, as the thief had already left.

Malik peered up from the bed to eye the door. He hadn't really wanted a response, or for Bakura to even know what he said. The thief would only have argued with him.

"Nnngh," Malik flopped against the bed again, sighing. "This is too much... A break's nice but this is ridiculous..."

He appreciated Bakura caring about him, but there came a point and time when enough was enough. After all, wouldn't Malik know what he could and could not do? It was his body, after all.

And right now his body was telling him he needed to go to the bathroom.

"Oh, what do you know?" Malik grunted. However, he knew far better than to argue with _that_ signal from his body, no matter how bratty he felt like being.

Slowly, the slave crawled out of bed before hurrying to the door leading to the restroom, closing the door behind him.

After a few minutes, Malik ventured back outside. He sighed and leaned against the wall, then blinked. He glanced down at his body, noticing that he wasn't shaking or feeling nearly as dizzy as before. In fact, he felt just fine.

"...That wasn't so bad," Malik made a face, and then snorted. "I'm fine... I don't need to be bedridden anymore!" The slave paused before glancing over to the bowl by the bed that held his washcloth, noticing how dry it was. "...In fact, I'm more than capable."

With a grin, Malik moved over to the bed and proceeded to scoop up the washcloth and bowl, then strode towards the door. He knew he could just as easily get clean water from the strange contraptions in the restroom, but his legs were begging for a chance to walk more than a few steps. He hesitated a moment before opening it, peering into the hallway for any sign of Bakura. Once he was certain the thief wasn't around, the young slave marched purposely out the door and down the hallway in front of him.

The slave walked along the hallway, feeling much more confident in his stance that he was perfectly fine. And by getting his own washcloth, he would prove that to Bakura. Even his master couldn't deny that the slave was capable enough to maneuver around the cave without assistance.

Unfortunately for Malik, he was too busy crowing about his moral victory to realize he had absolutely no idea where he was going.

Bakura had always carried him around, ever since he got there. His only real adventures on his own had been his discovery of the altar and when he snuck outside the cave. Even when he had been carried around, his face was mostly buried in the thief's back.

This fact was soon readily apparent when the slave turned a few corners and found himself in an area he didn't know, standing in a room he didn't recognize.

"Er..." Malik blinked, clutching the washcloth bowl. "Um... where am I?"

At first Malik could have sworn that he had somehow wandered outside without leaving through the cave entrance, but he was quick to realize that was not really the case. He was inside the most massive room he had seen yet. The walls and ceiling stretched out wide in all directions, and due to the fact that they were painted rather realistically to look like land and sky, it made it hard to tell how massive the room really was. However, the size and design of the room could hardly take away from what it contained.

This new area enclosed more green plants and fresh flowing water than Malik had seen in his in entire life. It was a large and lush green paradise with numerous rivers flowing through it that put the oasis he had visited with Bakura to shame. The only thing that took away from the beauty of the massive underground garden was the fact that nearly all the plants were overrun. Only a small patch of plants close to the wide stone path along the edge of the room seemed to have been tended to.

"I didn't know he had a _garden_!" Malik gaped, turning his head to soak in the sight. The slave paused to eye the weeds and ill-cared plants. "Or rather... he has a garden... somewhere in here."

Slowly, Malik walked along the path into the room, taking care not to step on anything as he headed towards the only area that looked mildly tended to.

Almost immediately, Malik recognized the plants as medicinal - and highly pruned at that. He knew what medicinal plants looked like, thanks to his sister. Isis had also learned a lot about plants and, before moving to the temple, would often talk to him about them. "So this is what Bakura makes his medicine with..."

The slave kneeled down and reached out to feel one of the leaves, then grimaced. "A bit dry, too... he should water them more..." All at once, it hit Malik like a ton of bricks. He stopped to gawk at the plants, blinking repeatedly. He knew a lot about plants, so why couldn't he help Bakura tend to the garden?

It'd definitely pay his master back, especially since most of the plants were being used to tend to _his_ injuries.

And there was certainly a _lot_ of work that needed to be done...

Malik grinned brightly before setting to work, completely forgetting his washcloth for the moment as he set about tending to the garden. As a first order of business, he proceeded to pull up the weeds and put them in a pile to be disposed of. He could easily tell which plants were weeds and which weren't, thanks to his sister, and soon had a good portion of the garden weeded.

Malik rubbed his nose, accidentally smearing dirt along it as his hands were covered in dirt. He then knelt down and proceeded to tug at a particularly stubborn weed, grunting. "Deep rooted, aren't you? Well, I'm not giving up so you may as well come along quietly..."

Malik continued to tug on the weed until he finally managed to get it up, then grinned victoriously at it. He hesitated and tilted his head, glancing towards the doorway of the garden when he thought he heard a noise. He waited silently, before giving a shrug when the sound didn't repeat itself.

With a huff, Malik tossed the weed over his shoulder and proceeded to continue tending to the garden.

The garden was coming along quite well as Malik worked diligently, though the slave was becoming absolutely filthy in the process.

He didn't notice it at first over the sound of the flowing water and the noises that he was making working on the garden, but after a while the blond was certain that he could hear a rhythmic tapping coming from somewhere behind him.

Malik blinked before glancing behind him, wondering what could possibly make such a sound. What he found was a foot.

More specifically, a tapping foot.

Malik blinked once before his eyes slowly trailed up that foot, a sudden feeling of dread welling up inside of him.

His fears were quickly realized as he found himself staring at Bakura's face.

And the thief did not look happy.

Bakura continued to tap his foot to a steady rhythm, causing his soft-soled slipper to make a surprisingly loud tap each time it impacted with the hard stone path. He stood there, not saying a word, with his arms crossed over his chest and a very irritated look on his face as his silver eyes gazed downwards piercingly, almost accusingly, into his slave's lavender ones.

"Er..." Malik could feel the sweat forming on his forehead as the corners of his mouth curled up into a nervous, guilty smile. "Um... I guess... food's ready?"

Bakura didn't answer as he continued to tap his foot.

Malik grimaced as he very slowly turned around, dropping the weed on the ground. He fidgeted, pressing his dirt-crusted fingertips together. "Um... I bet you're... wondering why I'm here...! There's a perfectly good explanation... for this..."

Bakura still tapped his foot in silence, his gaze never wavering.

Malik shifted, finding Bakura's silence unnerving. His gaze shifted to the abandoned bowl and washcloth by the thief's foot before glancing up at Bakura. Slowly, it started to dawn on him that he _didn't_ have a good explanation for his behavior. "...Ah..."

Bakura started to tap his foot a little faster; a sure sign that the bandit was slowly growing impatient for an answer.

Malik swallowed hard. He may as well try honesty. "I... went to get some water for my washcloth and... well... I got lost and... found the garden and... got sidetracked."

Finally Bakura spoke, though he didn't stop tapping his foot. "What part of 'stay in bed' did you not understand?" he asked in a frighteningly calm tone of voice.

"Errr..." Malik blinked at that, and then shifted nervously. "...Well, I... I did stay but I was out of water so I... thought I could just make it quick..."

"Did it ever occur to you to _ask_ me for more water when I came back with your breakfast?" Bakura said lowly in a forcibly even tone, resisting the urge to growl.

Malik's eyes widened at that, his expression clearly stating that it had, in fact, not occurred to him.

"I thought not," Bakura grunted as he finally stopped tapping his foot. "Get up. You need a bath now."

Malik fumbled to his feet quickly, dusting himself in a rather vain attempt to get at least some of the dirt off. "A... ah... am I in... trouble...?" he found himself asking, though he immediately realized it was a stupid question.

Bakura just gave him a _look_ that said it all.

Malik flinched, and then fidgeted. "I'll... I'll stay in bed from now on..."

"You're damn right you will," Bakura grunted as he snatched up the bowl and washcloth from the ground beside him. "And I'm going to make sure of that."

Malik blinked slowly. "What... do you mean?"

"You remember what I warned you I would do if you got out of bed without my permission, right?" Bakura asked as he gave his slave a hard stare.

Malik furrowed his eyebrows as he thought back, struggling to remember before it all of a sudden hit him. His eyes bugged out, the color draining from his face. "You can't mean you're going to...!"

"Get moving," Bakura ordered as he nudged the blond's shoulder blade firmly. "We need to get you clean before I can replace those bandages."

Malik stared at Bakura for a moment, struggling with the idea of the thief being serious. "Are... you going to tie me up...?"

The thief was silent for a moment before he leaned in closer to his slave, giving the blond a particularly intense stare. "What do you think?"

Malik stared at Bakura, his eyes widening to the size of saucers. He hesitated before he suddenly whipped around and bolted for the door with a squeal.

Unfortunately, the tanned boy didn't get far, as Bakura suddenly seized the back of his robe and yanked him backwards with a sharp tug.

Malik cried out as he was jerked backwards before he was suddenly flipped upwards and over Bakura's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The slave squeaked, then yowled and squirmed as he tried to escape the thief and the fate in store for him. "Noooo! I don't want to be tied up!"

"You should have thought of that before you disobeyed me," Bakura calmly retorted as he carried his thrashing slave from the room.

"Eeeeeee, put me down! I'll be good! I'll be good!"

"Too late."

----

"No, no, noooooo! Let me gooooooo! Stop!"

"For the hundredth time: _HOLD STILL_!" Bakura snapped as he tried to pin Malik's body to the bed forcibly.

Malik wailed, sounding as if Bakura was beating him brutally as the thief tried to pin the squirming (but clean) boy to the bed. "I don't want to be tied up! I don't want to be tied up!"

"Aren't you tired _yet_?" Bakura demanded, exasperated. Malik had been squealing, protesting, squirming, and struggling to get away ever since he had carried the blond out of the garden. He hadn't even been able to get changed into clean and dry clothes after giving the other boy a bath. Privately he had to admire his slave's surprising amount of spirit, as well as the tanned boy's energy and strength, but that emotion was almost all but buried under an intensely strong feeling of annoyance that only grew the longer Malik struggled.

"Let me go, let me go! I'll be good! I'll be good!" Malik whined, struggling to try and crawl away even as Bakura managed to get his wrists close to the headboard. "Don't tie me up!"

"The more you struggle the longer I'm going to tie you up!" Bakura snapped as he finally managed to tie one of the tanned boy's wrists to the headboard with a piece of cloth he had grabbed from one of the piles of clothes near the bed.

Malik howled, as if wounded, and reached up to try and untie his wrist as he squirmed underneath the thief.

Unfortunately for the yowling slave, his master snatched up the other hand and proceeded to tie that one to the opposite side of the headboard as well.

Malik whined pathetically as he writhed, trying to twist his wrists free. He knew he was losing the battle, but he wasn't about to give up yet. "BAKURAAAAAA-!"

"I'm not done yet!" Bakura exclaimed as he reached for yet more to tie Malik up with; determined to make sure that the blond couldn't escape from his restraints like last time.

Malik continued to wail, even though his throat was seriously starting to hurt, and squirmed. He felt exhausted, his muscles screaming at him, but he wasn't about to go quietly; if he proved to be too much of a pain, maybe Bakura would change his mind and give up!

"You might as well surrender!" the thief exclaimed as he used more strips of cloth he snatched to thoroughly tie the blond's wrists, arms, and hands to the headboard, to insure that there was no easy way of getting free. "There's no way you can beat _me_!"

Malik thrashed on the bed, trying to make things as difficult as possible for Bakura. "No, no, nooo! Let me go!"

"_THERE!_" Bakura finally declared once the deed had been done. He moved backwards off of Malik so that he could sit comfortably on the bed, leaning back on his arms, and let out an exhalation of relief before he took the time to catch his breath as he admired his handiwork. Malik had exhausted him, but in the end he had managed to tie the blond thoroughly to the bed.

Unfortunately, Bakura had left his slave's legs untied - a fact he was quickly made aware of as, without warning, Malik lashed his legs out to shove Bakura off the bed.

The thief barely had a chance to cry out before he went tumbling unceremoniously over the side of the bed and hit the floor with an audible thud. "OW!"

"Ooops!" Malik jerked up and blinked, momentarily startled out of his temper tantrum to stare at Bakura in concern. "Are you okay?"

Slowly a hand reached up to grasp the edge of the bed. Bakura then used that hand to pull himself upwards into a sitting position. The thief glared over the edge of the bed at his slave. "You are _very_ lucky that I'm not a violent person."

Malik made a face at that, and then promptly scooted upwards to try and lessen the tightness of his bonds before moving to try and untie them with his teeth.

Bakura's gaze flattened as he noticed the action. With forced calmness he stood up, a sash of cloth in hand, and then promptly leaned over to quickly gag Malik before the blond could react in time to stop him.

Malik let out a muffled cry before he squirmed and tried to push Bakura away again with his feet.

Unfortunately for the struggling blond, the thief anticipated that action, and quickly snatched the tanned boy's legs in one arm, holding them fast, so that he could finish gagging his slave.

Malik squirmed and whined, thrashing against his master as he tried to spit out the gag.

Bakura wasn't done, however, as he grabbed another piece of cloth so that he could start tying his slave's legs to the foot of the bed.

"Mwrrrrr-!?" Malik squirmed, trying to yank his feet away.

Regrettably for the tanned boy, the bandit managed to tie one leg then the other to the bed, rendering him immobile at last. He barely had room to squirm and thrash his body from side to side.

"_Finally_," Bakura sighed, but didn't drop his guard, lest his slave try some other form of assault or escape that he hadn't yet noticed.

Despite the lack of maneuverability, Malik did quite a bit of squirming on the bed. He twisted and jerked around, yanking and kicking valiantly. At the very least, he'd make sure that he got as little rest as possible. It'd serve Bakura right if he got even sicker simply because of this! The fact that it'd hurt _him_ more than Bakura was irrelevant.

"You know... for someone who is such a damned doormat most of the time, you sure put up a hell of a fight," Bakura drawled as he watched the blond struggle for all the slave was worth.

Malik made a strangled noise as he continued to struggle, almost violently as he tried to tear the sashes loose.

Bakura sighed in exasperation as he reached over to try and pin the tanned boy to the bed by pushing his hands down on Malik's stomach firmly yet gently. "_Stop it!_ You're going to hurt yourself!"

Malik jerked away from Bakura's hands, continuing to make noise in displeasure at his circumstances.

Nearing the end of his temper Bakura decided to suddenly sit down on Malik's stomach and use his entire body to force his slave to hold still. "_I said STOP IT!_" he bellowed in the blond's face as he gripped the other boy's shoulders tightly.

Malik jerked back, his eyes widening as his body went completely rigid.

Bakura glared into the bound boy's eyes a few moments longer before straightening. "Good. Now just stay like that until I untie you."

Malik felt his heart racing as he stared at Bakura, biting the sash in his mouth slightly. A slight tremor ran up his spine as his pupils shrank to dots, his stomach clenching under the weight of Bakura. Ever since he had gotten there, Bakura had been lording over him; at first, Malik had thought it was just about taking care of him and thus didn't really mean any of it. Briefly, he had even forgotten about the whole "slave" and "master" deal.

But now he wasn't so sure anymore. All at once, everything was becoming familiar - far too familiar.

Bakura was dominating him, tying him up, _screaming_ at him like a possession.

Things his father did.

Bakura was acting like his father.

Bakura noticed the expression of fear on the blond's face and couldn't help but grimace slightly. "Don't give me that look," he said as he tried to ignore an uncomfortable knot in the pit of his stomach. "I gave you plenty of warning what would happen if you kept disobeying me. It's not my fault that you don't know what's best for you."

Malik felt himself grow sick to his stomach as he clenched his fingers (not that Bakura could see through the sashes). He averted his eyes as he held perfectly still, trying not to shake. He felt so confused; he had grown to like how Bakura had treated him so kindly, but now it seemed he had been right the first time: he was property.

Bakura couldn't help but let out a sigh as he held his head. "Gods..." he breathed in exasperation. Despite his limited experience with people, even he could see that he had absolutely terrified Malik and caused the tanned boy to regress back into his fearful of everyone state. With another sigh he moved off of Malik's stomach and sat beside the bound slave on their bed. "I'm not doing this to be mean to you or abuse you!"

Malik kept his eyes averted and held perfectly still, lest Bakura scream at him again. "...I thought things were different... He said things were different... but they're only different when I'm obedient..." he thought, dismayed. He'd need to be far more obedient in the future.

At seeing that his words had no affect, Bakura swore sharply under his breath. He then reached over and removed the gag from Malik to allow the blond to speak so that they could properly argue. "Do you _WANT_ to get sick and die? Is that it?"

"...No..." came the soft response. The slave boy kept his eyes averted, not daring to look at Bakura in the face.

"Then why can't you see that I only want what's best for you?" Bakura demanded, his frustration only growing stronger.

"...I can see that..." Malik murmured, not looking at Bakura.

Bakura's cheek twitched. "Damn it, Malik! Why do you have to be this way?"

Malik hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Was it a rhetorical question?

Bakura grunted as he glared at the blond. Of course the slave wouldn't answer him. He just undid all the progress the other boy made in being able to be a normal person. He wanted to stop Malik from being so weak and he got in a way he didn't want. Of course if he showed his displeasure at the blond's attitude, the abused boy would go back to being a whimpering and scared child, which was exactly what the thief did not want.

"Fine," Bakura huffed as he made up his mind. "Fine, fine, _fine!_" He reached over to briskly untie Malik's wrists from the headboard. Despite how thoroughly he had tied the other boy, he managed to remove the sashes in short order, and then did the same to the ones around his slave's ankles.

Malik remained perfectly immobile, not moving even after he had been set free. He wasn't about to set Bakura off again.

"There!" Bakura snapped as he tossed the cloth aside violently. "I untied you!" He then stood up beside the bed. "Happy now?"

Malik remained perfectly still, keeping even his breathing light lest Bakura get angrier.

A violent twitch ran through Bakura's tense body. Why did Malik have to be this way, especially after all the worrying he had done before? The blond had nearly died and wasn't out of danger so long as the tanned boy was still injured; Malik could have gotten sick already, but the other boy was too busy acting like a brat to care! Why should the thief care for someone who didn't care for themselves and disregarded how he felt?

"_FINE!_" Bakura snarled as he threw his arms into the air. "Do whatever you damn well please! I don't care any more!" With that he whirled on his heel and stormed out of the room. He needed to get away for a while, at least until he calmed down, before he did something he would later regret.

Malik flinched slightly, unable to help himself. He glanced up as Bakura stormed out of the room, then curled up on his side and hugged himself. "..."

After a number of minutes of silence faint but the familiar sound of the cave entrance opening and closing caught Malik's attention, causing the slave to sit up sharply. Malik started blankly, almost uncomprehending, out the door into the empty hallway before he gave a shuddering sob.

----

"Bakura...? Bakura... Bakura, please answer me..."

Malik whimpered as he slowly wandered the cave, searching for his master as he trailed his fingers along the wall. He hiccupped slightly, wiping at his eyes occasionally, before glancing around once more. He had no idea how much time had passed since their argument and when he had finally stopped crying, but it seemed like an eternity. He had seen neither hide nor hair of the thief since.

There was not a sound, not a shadow, not even a sliver of hair, nothing but emptiness and silence.

"Bakura, please..." Malik whispered, shaking slightly. He sincerely doubted Bakura could hear him, but he had to say it. The thief most likely wasn't even in the cave, having left earlier; Malik had never heard him return, but he had sincerely hoped he just hadn't noticed. "Please... where are you...?"

After Malik had managed to calm down, he had found the once fresh-made meal on the floor of their room. The bowl had been shattered, no doubt dropped by Bakura once he had realized that Malik was gone. The slave remembered far too well how Bakura had said he rarely ever cooked for himself - and yet, the thief had cooked for him. In fact, his master had cooked practically every meal he had since he started living there.

This, of course, immediately made Malik start bawling all over again.

Having calmed down a second time, the slave wandered through the cave aimlessly in search of his master. Unfortunately, his search was for nothing. After finding himself searching the same rooms over and over, Malik could only come to one conclusion: Bakura was most definitely not in the cave.

Malik sighed as he slumped against the wall, hanging his head. "He's... not here..." he muttered dully. Slowly, the slave turned to look at the entrance. He tilted his head, giving a slight sniffle before making a face. "...Maybe... maybe he's outside...?"

After a moment's hesitation, Malik slowly fumbled to his feet. He dusted himself off, and then reached up to grip the locket around his neck. Bakura could have been out on the cliffs, gazing at the sky in an effort to calm down. At the very least, Malik might be able to see the thief using the far-reaching view the height gave him.

With that in mind, the slave moved to gently tap the locket against the wall. As expected, the rock barrier slid open with that familiar loud grinding noise of stone on stone, revealing the dark entrance beyond.

Malik peered outside before quickly reaching over to grab a torch off of the wall; he wasn't about to make the same mistake as before. Light in hand, Malik hurried outside through the passage and into the outside world.

Thanks to the torch the slave could more easily see the entrance cavern. Unlike the areas hidden behind the secret stone door, the rocks here were jagged and uneven, making it look to all the world just like any other cave created by nature.

Malik blinked but didn't pause to think too much of the masonry as he hurried outside, wanting to find Bakura as soon as possible. The details could wait until then.

The darkness of night greeted the slave once he exited the cave. The light from the stars was dimmer tonight, thanks to a surprisingly large number of clouds that floated across the sky, blocking out much of the light from the heavens. However, it was still bright enough to see the canyon well enough to notice that Bakura seemed to be nowhere in sight.

Malik hesitated and made a face as he slowly scanned the canyon, grimacing. Surely the thief had to be around; after all, Bakura wouldn't have _abandoned_ him. "Bakura...?"

Unfortunately there was no answer. There wasn't even any sign of Dusk, Bakura's horse, grazing at the river at bottom of the canyon, not that the dark horse could easily be noticed at night.

"...Bakura...?" Malik repeated, his stomach clenching. Would the thief be hiding from him?

Still, no answer came, and there was no sign of his master.

Malik shivered slightly before glancing around almost desperately, trying to find any sight of his master. He turned slightly before following the same path that Bakura had shown him before, leading him upwards to the cliff side where he and his master had watched his first sunrise.

The path was a bit of a walk, but Malik was too busy thinking about Bakura to notice. When the slave finally reached the top, he felt his heart sink into his stomach at the sight of an empty cliff.

Bakura was nowhere to be found.

"Where... where is he...? Where could he be...?" Malik murmured, his entire body shaking. "He can't be gone... He can't be..."

It was then that Malik noticed that the sky was starting to lighten from near black to light blue, as sunrise approached over the horizon.

Malik gave a start before jerking around to stare at the sky. He gawked as the sun slowly began to rise, painting the sky in a brilliant display of colors once more. The slave watched, his expression dumbfounded, as light chased away the darkness to reveal a glorious, golden morning. It was indeed a beautiful sight.

And it was all wrong.

The slave blinked slowly, unbelieving at first, before his trembling increased. He dropped the torch, which clattered by his feet noisily, before he sunk to his knees. Malik stared at the sky for a moment as tears started to form in his eyes. And then, as the sun brought a brand new day, Malik hunched forward and wailed in misery before curling up into a bawling, trembling ball on the cliff side.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter Eight

----

_ All was darkness._

_ "Uhn... nnn...?" Malik opened his eyes slowly, his entire body feeling as if it were made of stone. Slowly, the boy lifted his head and gazed around, finding himself standing in the middle of a dark room. "...Where am I...?"_

_ Or at least, he assumed it was a dark room. Malik couldn't make out anything in the darkness except for himself, despite how impossible it seemed._

_ The blond blinked slowly and rubbed his eyes slowly before glancing down at himself, as if trying to find the source of the weight. He felt his purple hoodie and his black pants, and then glanced at the gold arm braces on both of his forearms. However, he could find nothing to explain why he felt so heavy._

_ "I KNOW already."_

_ It was in that instant the familiar voice spoke that the darkness seemed to become tainted, filled with dark shades of purple and red. Instantly Malik recognized it as the dark space that would appear every time a Game of Darkness was played._

_ Malik looked up sharply with a gasp, blinking. His eyes widened as he found himself staring at the shadowed back of Bakura, the silver-haired boy's arms in his jean pockets as his large black trench coat shielded him mostly from view. "Bakura-!?"_

_ "You don't have to keep screaming it at me," Bakura said, though he didn't look at Malik, so it was most likely that he wasn't talking to the other boy, but there was no one else there. "I can hear you just fine."_

_ "Bakura! What's... going on?" Malik fumbled forward, grimacing as he felt as if he were dragging his limbs through quicksand._

_ "I'm coming," Bakura sighed, as if annoyed yet weary at the same time. He then began to walk forwards away from Malik, as if he was completely unaware of the blond's presence. "I'm coming."_

_ "W-wait!" Malik cried out, reaching towards the thief as if to grab his coat. "Wait, don't leave me!"_

_ Unfortunately Malik only managed to brush his bare fingertips against the edge of the trench coat before it was out of his reach. Suddenly a brilliant though frightening blood red, almost pink, glow appeared where the blond had touched the black fabric, as if leaving a spark behind. The strange light slowly grew and started to spread outwards, and after a moment Malik could see that it was eating away at Bakura's clothing._

_ Bakura, however, was oblivious to everything but the darkness ahead of him. "No rest for the dead, right?" he asked the darkness._

_ "Bakura! Can't you hear me!?" Malik called out desperately as he struggled along, barely able to move his legs. "Stop!"_

_ It was then that Malik heard it. It sounded like the whispering of countless voices, all speaking at once that they couldn't be made out even if they weren't so faint. For some reason they sounded distorted, twisted unnaturally, which caused a chill to run up the blond's spine to hear them._

_ "You never shut up, do you?" Bakura asked the darkness as he continued to walk away from Malik, slowly putting distance between him and the other boy._

_ "...That sound... What's that awful sound!?" Malik hissed, covering his ears slightly as he flinched at the noise. He continued onward after Bakura, sluggishly slow. "Bakura! Why won't you answer me!?"_

_ The voices seem to grow steadily louder, though they remained as incomprehensible as ever._

_ "S-shut up! SHUT UP! I'm talking to Bakura!" Malik howled, growing increasingly frustrated. "I won't let you leave me!"_

_ "A little late now, isn't it?" Bakura seemingly asked the dark as he tilted his head slightly. He was completely unaware that his trench coat had now been mostly eaten away by the strange bloody light, which had now started on the back of his jeans and sleeves._

_ "...What... is that?" Malik stared in horror as he continued after Bakura, gawking, as the light seemed to dissolve the thief right in front of his eyes. "What is that!?"_

_ As Malik watched, the light started to eat away at Bakura's body, starting with the silver haired boy's backside. He couldn't help but also notice how Bakura's shadow seemed to darken beyond black as it grew larger and larger behind the retreating thief._

_ "Shut up!" Bakura apparently snapped at the strange voices in the dark, as they grew steadily louder. He did not stop walking or notice how much of his body was now gone. "You're driving me crazy!"_

_ Malik stopped short with a cry, just barely managing to avoid stepping on Bakura's increasingly sinister shadow, which seemed to have a life of its own as it writhed across the floor of its own accord. A pair of slits appeared, spilling a blood red light as they opened wide, like the eyes of a demon. He stumbled, momentarily flustered, and jerked his head up to stare after Bakura. "B-Bakura...?"_

_ All that remained now of Bakura's body were his hands, feet, and bust, though those too were being devoured hungrily by the terrible bloody light. He finally stopped and let out a sigh as he looked upwards. "You're not going to let me go, are you?" he asked in a quiet, uncharacteristically sad tone. He received no real answer, much like the other times he asked the darkness, save that the voices were now all but deafening, and now a dark sinister laughter seemed to emerge amongst them._

_ "Bakura-!" Malik choked before he collapsed to his knees, his legs giving out from under him. "BAKURA-!"_

_ Bakura sighed as he slumped his shoulders before they too were eaten away, leaving him as nothing from the neck down. He then turned his head to look behind him, as if noticing Malik was there for the first time. The blond could see surprisingly a faint, sad smile on the thief's face, before it disappeared in that terrible light, and a lone dark brown eye, which shifted to a familiar gentle silver color as it focused on Malik._

_ Malik trembled as he stared, eyes wide. He was speechless, unable to think of what to say or do as he saw the thief disappear in front of him. He felt numb, his muscles no longer even trying to move._

_ "I know what you're thinking, but this wasn't my choice," Bakura said to Malik even though his mouth was no longer there, his quiet voice somehow heard over the almost deafening gibberish and laughter. Then that lone eye closed as the bloody light finally devoured the last of him._

_ Malik's cheek twitched as his pupils shrank before something inside him snapped. The blond hunched forward and clutched at his head, letting out a scream from deep within him._

Malik sat up with a cry, his eyes snapping open. He was immediately blinded as light surged into his eyes, causing him to cry out again. He shielded his face, flinching until he slowly adjusted to the light and lifted his head to look around. He was on the cliff side near the cave entrance, curled up on the hard rock.

He had fallen asleep sometime during his crying, his eyes sore from tears and his body aching due to the uncomfortable rock surface. His muscles screamed their discontent at such sleeping arrangements, his head throbbing angrily. After a moment of confusion, Malik glanced across the horizon towards the city.

He marveled at the scenery for a moment before fumbling to his feet, rubbing his sore eyes. What had he been doing out here? Sleeping out in the open - talk about dangerous!

Then it hit him all at once.

"...Bakura-!" Malik whispered, hoarsely.

The slave's legs gave out once more as he collapsed to the hard rock. He barely felt the sharp surge of pain going through his legs at their rough treatment, instead curling up into a ball as new tears formed in his eyes.

"BAKURAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

----

Hours had passed as Malik had cried his heart out on the cliff, passed out, then woke up and cried some more. Many more hours had passed before the slave could even begin to think about heading back inside. It wasn't until the sun began to glare on him with its intense, heated gaze before the boy could gather enough energy to drag himself back into the cave.

Collapsing in his room, Malik had laid there for many more hours. Before long, night had once again come and gone, and Bakura still hadn't returned. For the first time in his life, Malik had found himself alone: completely and utterly alone.

At least in the barn, he had the sounds of the animals around him to drive away the silence. But in that cave, in that room, he had nothing but the sound of his own heartbeat.

He was absolutely alone.

Malik felt so confused, guilty, and lonely. It was entirely his fault for acting so brash, forgetting (even for a second) that he was a slave and Bakura his master. He had learned too late how he was supposed to act, and he had upset Bakura in the process.

Where had Bakura gone?

When would he be back?

Would he even come back at all?

The slave boy slept miserably that night; filled with nightmares he was no longer protected from and waking up to an empty bed. The reality finally started to sink in past the denial and hope he had clung to so desperately.

Bakura wasn't coming back.

Malik slumped his shoulders as he sat on his bed, hugging his knees while rocking slightly. His eyes were red, sore from all of the crying he had done. He knew he would most likely still be crying, but he simply didn't have any more tears at the moment. He supposed even tears needed time to recover.

"I'm a fool... a fool..." Malik murmured, shifting slightly to bury his face in his knees. "...I keep screwing up everything... I'm born, so I kill my mother. My father spares me, so I ruin his life. Bakura saves me, so I chase him away. I'm a fool... a fool..."

Malik let out a thin noise before he shook himself, grabbing his arms. "Why!? Why, why, why!? Why can't anything go well!? Why am I cursed to have everything blow up in my face!?"

The slave boy shivered, grimacing as he could feel his eyes sting, signaling the start of more tears. "He said he didn't care... He doesn't care about me anymore... He left me... _HE LEFT ME!_ I... I screwed up... He was only trying to help me and I... I acted like a _BRAT_ and..."

Malik let out a shuttering sob as he dug his fingers into his arms so hard that it punctured the skin, causing blood to form on his fingernails. "I don't deserve to be cared about...!"

The distraught slave choked on his tears, his chest heaving as he found it hard to breathe. Many more minutes ticked away as Malik suffered in silence, mentally tearing apart every incident he had ruined with his stupidity. All of the complaining, the whining, and the stupidity - why Bakura hadn't abandoned him before was a mystery!

After a while, Malik slowly lifted his head and stared out the door to the hallway. He listened, obviously in vain for any sound of Bakura's return. It didn't come, and probably never would.

"...Everything... everything started to go wrong when I looked upon..." Malik hiccupped. "When I... looked..." At that, the slave paused, his eyes growing wide with understanding. "...When I looked at the statue..."

Malik went deathly quiet at that, staring out of the door as his mind whirled. It had all started because of that incident; he had offended the gods and now they were punishing him. That had to be the answer!

"...If I... apologize... then... then Anu-ah... then the gods will forgive me and give me back Bakura..." Malik whispered, his voice harsh. But how would he go about apologizing to the Master of the Dead? What could the statue possibly demand as payment for his crimes?

The answer hit him like a slap to the face. He remembered how the hallway was stained heavily in crimson swirls of blood, contributed obviously from countless people. Clearly Anubis, being the god of the dead, wanted nothing less than his life blood as payment for his crimes against him and the other gods.

"Blood... I need to give Anubis... blood!" Malik murmured before looking down at his wrists as he jerked them towards him, palm upwards. "If I give him my blood... he'll give me back Bakura!"

The prospect of getting back his thief filled Malik with such joy and relief that it completely smothered any fear or revulsion he might have had towards surrendering blood to the statue. Eagerly, Malik fumbled to his feet and darted out of the room. He needed to find something sharp, so he hurried to try and find the kitchen; after all, kitchens had knives so why would Bakura's be any different?

After much searching and wandering the maze-like cave, Malik finally managed to find the kitchen and confiscated one of the knives for his holy endeavor. Doubling back, he made his way back to his room before following the hallway around, just as he had before when he first came across the altar.

His hands shaking with anticipation, Malik quickly darted through the curtains to the bloodstained alcove and found himself once again standing before the golden altar to Anubis. This time, he took care not to stare at the statue directly and gingerly knelt onto the bloodstained ground.

Malik brandished the knife and held it out, keeping his head bowed. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to say something or be quiet when making his offering, as this was something he didn't ever ask Isis about. He never thought he'd ever look upon the gods, so why would he need to know how to appease them?

"Um... um... oh great Master of Souls... and... um... Guide of the Dead to Judgment... and... ah... please forgive me for being stupid," Malik mumbled, trying to sound as apologetic and formal as he possibly could while making up things as he went.

The slave waited, half expecting some sort of sign that the gods were listening. When nothing came, Malik shifted nervously and tilted his head.

"Please forgive me for being... very stupid?" he ventured, weakly. He still got no response, prompting him to purse his lips. "Forgive me for being very, very stupid... and being born."

When still no response came, Malik chewed on his lower lip. "Maybe I'm supposed to make my offering and then wait for his acceptance or rejection."

With that in mind, Malik brandished the knife before holding his wrist out to the statue, palm upwards. "I... ah... offer you my blood in exchange for your forgiveness... so... please give me Bakura back!" Slowly, Malik moved forward to press the sharp blade to his skin.

Suddenly a stifled screech shattered the silence of the cave.

Malik jerked to attention, his eyes widening as he halted the knife just above his skin.

While muffled, the sound was loud and terrifying. It was unlike anything Malik had ever heard before, or ever wanted to hear again, as it sent shivers of fear through out his entire body. It sounded as if whatever making it was right in front of him, perhaps just beyond the stone wall past the altar.

More noises joined the screech; an unholy chorus of inhuman screams and cries that mingled together with something scratching and clawing at the rock. It even sounded as if something was hitting the cave wall hard, trying desperately to break through the bloodstained cave wall and take Malik.

Malik froze as a wave of sheer terror surged through him, draining his face of all color. What were those sounds?! They couldn't possibly be human, or even animal. Were they the servants of Anubis, tortured souls of undead, come to express their displeasure at his offering?

Suddenly, the alcove was filled with a bright red light, causing Malik to cry out and drop the knife, which clattered noisily on the ground.

The right eye of the statue, once white, had turned a brilliant shade of blood red, bathing the area and Malik in its terrifying light. Malik cried out, scrambling backwards, as the statue seemingly stood up on all fours, the statue's jackal head jutting forward as its maw snapped open to reveal a gaping hole.

Suddenly, a piercing, shrill howl issued from the statue; the sound was so loud it forced Malik to cover his ears, screaming. The room seemed to spin as the sound pierced Malik's brain, like a thousand daggers jabbing into the soft tissue.

All of the torches lining the walls outside of the alcove instantly changed colors, burning blood red as the howl continued to issue from the depths of the statue. Malik staggered back, covering his ears as he screamed; at least, he thought he was screaming - he couldn't even hear the sound of his own voice over the raging statue.

Suddenly, all at once, the sound ceased and the lights shifted to their normal color: it was as if nothing had happened.

However, the ringing in Malik's ears reminded him that something had most definitely happened. He stared blankly at the alcove, shaking violently as he gasped for breath. Everything felt so surreal, so deafeningly quiet; at first, he was afraid he had gone deaf. After a few seconds of stunned silence, Malik promptly slumped over. He was still alive!

Suddenly a pair of strong arms snatched the slave before he hit the floor and held him close.

"Malik? Are you alright?" came the sound of a familiar concerned voice.

Malik tensed instinctively, his eyes widening. At the sound of the voice, he felt as if all of his breath had been torn from his body. Slowly, the slave lifted his head to stare in disbelief.

None other than Bakura stood behind him, holding him protectively. The thief's clothes were stained with blood; though Malik didn't notice it so much as he paid attention to the fact that his master was back. Bakura looked him over for injuries, the silver haired man's gaze settling critically on the cuts on his arms, before looking back up into his eyes. "What happened?" the silver-eyed boy asked, obviously worried about the damage to his slave's body.

Malik stared at Bakura, gawking as if he were staring at a ghost. There was absolutely no way that the thief could be there, right then, holding him so protectively. There was absolutely no way... "...Bakura...?"

"Are you okay?" Bakura repeated as his gaze drifted down to the scratches on the tanned boy's arms once again. He then paused to glance at the statue and the blood stained hallway before looking back at the blond.

Malik continued to stare at Bakura in complete disbelief before his eyes started to water. Bakura was really there! Bakura had come back for him! With a sob, Malik lunged up at the thief, wrapping his arms around Bakura's neck in a vice grip. "_BAKURA!_"

Bakura let out a yelp of surprise, blinking repeatedly, before he stared at Malik in confusion. After their argument before, he didn't expect his slave to react in such a manner towards him ever again. However, as his gaze drifted towards the altar again, it might have made more sense than he initially thought.

"It's okay, Malik," Bakura said soothingly as he held Malik close. "I'm here."

"You came back, you came back, _you came back_!" Malik babbled, clinging to Bakura desperately. "You were gone and gone and gone but you came back!"

"Of course I came back," Bakura said as he began to run his fingers through the blond's hair. "I just left to do something important." He also had left to vent his anger and frustration until he was calm enough to realize that he had been too harsh on Malik and wanted to apologize. "I'm sorry that I scared you..." he whispered, forcing out the words, as he wasn't used to apologizing, but felt that his companion needed to hear it.

Malik buried his face in Bakura's neck, sobbing hysterically as he clung to the other boy. He silently swore that he would never let go again!

Bakura was about to try and say something else to soothe the sobbing boy in his arms when he suddenly noticed something out of the corner of his eye. His gaze shifted from the blond to the knife that lay discarded on the floor nearby. A chill suddenly gripped him as he realized that Malik had to have brought it there for some purpose.

Malik didn't notice Bakura's shift in attention, clinging to the thief and sobbing until he started to choke on his tears once more. Bakura had really come back to him. Did this mean that Anubis had forgiven him? But what had been those screams and the howling? What did it matter? Bakura was back!

"Why were you here at the altar?" Bakura asked quietly, trying to approach the subject gently because of how obviously distraught the other boy was.

Malik hiccupped and swallowed hard, struggling to get control over his tears before he blinked. "H-Haaah...?"

Bakura looked into the blond's tearstained face and decided that now was not the time to talk about it. "Never mind," he said as he shook his head. "Just don't come near this altar again, okay? It's dangerous."

Malik sniffed and nodded, tightening his grip around the bandit's neck. He'd never disobey Bakura ever again!

Bakura sighed softly as he gently pat the crying boy's back. "Come on, Malik; let's get bandages on your arms." He tried to gently nudge Malik into standing so they could go back to their room.

Malik tightened his grip, pressing his entire body against Bakura as he whimpered. He made no other move.

Bakura blinked then sighed.

"Not this again..."

----

"How long are you going to keep this up?"

"Mrrrf," Malik grunted as he tightened his grip, keeping his face firmly planted in Bakura's chest.

Bakura sighed as he looked down at his slave. It had been hours since he had returned and Malik had clung to him no matter what he said or did. While part of him liked the fact that the blond was happy to see him and bore no grudge over their argument earlier, this was far overshadowed by the frustration towards how desperately clingy the other boy was now. The blond hadn't even said two words since burying his face in his master's chest, instead making incomprehensible noises whenever addressed.

"I should have just gone outside and vented at the gods," Bakura thought to himself irritably. He couldn't help but think of what he should have done differently. He shouldn't have tried to tie Malik up, he should have been more understanding, he should have tried to distract the tanned boy from being tied up, or one of the countless other second thoughts that had come to the thief's mind over the past few hours.

Bakura let out a frustrated huff as he dropped his head back onto the pillow. There wasn't much more he could do right now than lie in bed with Malik until his companion calmed down enough to at least look him in the face again. He might not have liked the idea of having to lie there with nothing to do but try and comfort and reason with Malik, but he was at a loss as to how to snap the blond out of it. Last time dunking his slave in the bath did it, but after the emotional stress _he_ put Malik through, he just didn't have the heart to do it again.

Malik suddenly interrupted Bakura's thoughts by hooking a leg around the thief's hip, pulling them closer together.

Bakura blinked, startled at the action, and then eyed the blond. "Malik?" he asked, wondering if the action meant that the other boy was becoming more responsive.

"Mrf," came Malik's response, though he peeked up slightly to peer at Bakura through his bangs.

"Well, at least he's looking at me now," Bakura thought as he saw the other boy's lavender eyes. "Look... I'm sorry I lost my temper with you, and I'm sorry I left without telling you anything," he said aloud, swallowing his pride. He really disliked apologizing to anyone, but he understood that Malik needed to hear it right now, and that was more important than his pride. He reached out to brush the stray strands of golden hair dangling over his slave's eyes.

Malik made a face, though most of it was covered, before he murmured against Bakura's chest. "My fault..."

"No it's not," Bakura grunted. Couldn't he even be allowed to apologize right? "I overreacted. I shouldn't have yelled at you or left."

"My fault," Malik repeated, a bit more firmly. "Shouldn't have argued."

Bakura quirked an eyebrow upwards as he noticed the irony. "Like you're doing now?" he pointed out.

Malik blinked at that, and then furrowed his eyebrows. "..."

Bakura reached out to run his fingers through the blond's hair. "I want you to get better... even if that means we're going to fight." His voice quieted slightly. "It's better than having you stay broken."

Malik blinked again before his expression softened. "But... I... made you... leave me..."

"No, I left because I didn't want to see what I was doing to you anymore," Bakura said softly as he looked away. "You were getting better... enough that you acted like a normal person... and I undid all of that because I lost my temper..."

Malik tightened his grip, drawing closer to Bakura. He didn't know what to say to that; part of it was true but he couldn't help but feel it was also his fault.

After a few minutes of silence had passed Bakura spoke again, still quiet, as his gaze was focused one of the torches on the wall. "Why were you at Anubis' altar with that knife?"

Malik paused at that before burying his face in Bakura's chest again. "...I was going to make him an offering."

A notable amount of tension filled the thief's body. "What kind of offering?"

"...Enough of an offering for him to give you back to me." Malik didn't look at Bakura.

"Don't you _ever_ even _think_ about trying something that stupid again," Bakura hissed through his teeth.

Malik didn't respond, tightening his grip slightly even as a faint tremor ran up his spine. He had made Bakura angry again...

The silver-eyed boy noticed the blond shiver and reached out to pull the other boy in a fierce hug. "Offerings to the gods are worthless," he explained, trying to keep the harshness out of his voice. "They don't listen. I told you that already. They wouldn't care if you let yourself be raped and killed in their name. If they did then that just shows how sick they truly are."

"But you came back..." Malik murmured weakly. "The statue rejected my offering but you came back..."

Bakura made a face at that and decided it was time to tell Malik something he had been holding back until his companion was ready to hear it. "It didn't reject your 'offering' or bring me back. It's a guardian, not a real altar."

"Hah?" Malik blinked and looked up at Bakura, brushing his chin against the thief's chest.

"You've seen the altars to Osiris, Obelisk, and Ra near the entrance, right?" Bakura asked, seemingly changing the subject.

Malik nodded, making a face. He avoided looking at the altars whenever he passed them to leave the cave, so he never got as good a look at them as he did to Anubis' altar, but he did catch enough of a glimpse to be aware of what they were after being informed about Anubis' altar.

"Those statues to the gods were made as guardians for this place to keep invaders out and protect those who lived here," Bakura explained, noting the other boy's expression. "Anubis used to be there at the entrance too, but I moved it to where it is now around when I first came to this place."

"You did...? Why...?" Malik quirked an eyebrow upwards. That did explain the awful noise but it still begged a few questions.

"You noticed all the old bloodstains around this place, especially around Anubis' altar, right?" Bakura asked, having an unusual look in his eyes.

"...That's... where I got the idea of what he'd like for an offering."

"The reason Anubis' altar is there is to _prevent_ more bloodshed," Bakura said as he gave the other boy a level stare, still unhappy about the fact that Malik was willing to bleed for him. Though privately a part of him couldn't help but appreciate that amount of devotion to him.

"Prevent...? So it screamed at me to stop me from slitting my wrist?" Malik stared at Bakura, then squeaked and covered his mouth. He hadn't meant to remind the thief of his plan.

Bakura gave the blond a particularly intense _gaze_ for what the other boy blurted out. "Yes, _that_. And to scare away what you might have attracted if you did do _that_."

Malik fidgeted, feeling rather self-conscious. "Oh..." He paused, and then tilted his head. "Attract...?"

"There is another exit behind that altar, but it leads into a different cave..." Bakura trailed off as he made a face and debated about how much to tell his companion.

Malik's eyes widened. "Was that... where those sounds... came from before the statue... started screaming...?"

Bakura looked up sharply at that. "You heard them?"

"I heard... something," Malik shivered at the memory. "It couldn't have been an animal... it was so... so...!"

"Unnatural?" Bakura supplied helpfully as he pulled the blond a little closer to his body. His expression grew hard, deadly serious, as his voice dropped to a hushed whisper. "I've seen them. Whatever they are... they're not natural. They're not animals... and definitely not humans... They're not even Ka! They're something else entirely... The only thing they can really be accurately called is monsters."

"...And they... they made that blood?" Malik asked; his voice hushed. He had no idea something so dangerous was living in that alcove.

Bakura nodded sharply, his gaze distant and his jaw set. "Most likely they managed to get in past the door somehow without destroying it... and killed everyone who used to live here." His eyes narrowed. "There were no remains when I first came here... just trails of blood... so their bodies were obviously dragged back into that cave with _them_."

Malik started to tremble against Bakura, his breathing ragged. "Then they... they can... can just... come out and...!?"

Bakura's attention immediately returned to the blond and he moved to brush his cheek against his companion's in a comforting manner as he held the frightened boy close. "Don't worry, I think that the only reason that they could was that they managed to prop open the door temporarily," he said soothingly. He decided not to mention that he suspected what had been used to prop the stone passageway open was likely a corpse of one of the sorcerers that used to live there. "Don't worry. They haven't managed to open that doorway the entire time I've lived here. I merely moved Anubis' altar there as added protection just in case."

"B-but they could at any time...!" Malik whimpered, his shaking increasing. "A-at any moment, they could... they could-!"

"Only sorcerers' magic can open the door," Bakura said in a firm voice. "The only way they could open it is if they had a locket like yours and had enough intelligence to use it, which they do _not_."

"But how did they... get by in the first place, then!?" Malik clung to Bakura, shaking rather badly. "How...?"

"There are a lot of magic crystals inside that cave," Bakura explained as he started to rub the tanned boy's back in an assuring manner. "Most likely there were people who went exploring or digging for crystals while someone kept the door open... Then those things attacked and escaped..."

"...Crystals?" Malik blinked at that, though he allowed himself to be reassured by Bakura's comforting hands. "...So they can't... can't get us?"

Bakura smiled a little, pleased to note how the other boy's tension was starting to ease. "No, and even if somehow the door was opened the guardian statue would sound an alarm and fight them off long enough to seal them back inside or for us to escape."

"Fight them off?" Malik's eyes widened. "It can move? It doesn't just stand and howl?"

Bakura couldn't help but cock an eyebrow. "You thought it couldn't move even though you saw it stand up?"

"...Well, um... it just stood up. I thought maybe that's all it could do, as it didn't get off of the altar." Malik felt horribly embarrassed.

Bakura couldn't help but chuckle softly as he reached out to ruffle the blond's hair. "It can't go far from the altar, but it can definitely prevent any invaders from passing it and fight well. My father demonstrated it to me one time using Ra's altar."

Malik squeaked at the ruffle, and then blinked. "Really? So it's a guard dog? Er, figuratively?" He hesitated, and then made a face. "What happened?"

"You mean with Ra's altar?" Bakura asked as he brushed the bangs away from the other boy's eyes.

Malik nodded slightly, messing up his bangs once more. The slave paused, and then giggled as he realized he just undid what Bakura had done.

Bakura blinked at that action then snickered, but made no comment about it. "My father caught a thief trying to steal some of the treasures the Pharaoh gave us to use as parts of traps for the tomb the people of my village were building. My father gave the thief a choice: he could confess his crime to the Pharaoh and give back what he stole... or he could try to get past Ra's altar to take a cart full of treasure. If he made it he would be allowed to go free a very rich man."

"What did the thief do...?" Malik stared at Bakura.

"Mostly scream when the Ra guardian burned him to ashes," Bakura said with a crooked grin. "He didn't realize that there was a _reason_ why the Pharaohs had my people build their tombs."

Malik stared at Bakura. "Wow... so... so the guardian statues would protect us? Even that Anubis one?"

Bakura grinned even more. "Yes, even though I sometimes curse the gods those statues represent, they can and do protect us."

Malik let out an audible sigh of relief. It made him feel better knowing that the creatures couldn't suddenly lash out at them from the darkness.

However, the blond did not expect an attack from right in front of him, as Bakura managed to successfully steal a kiss from his lips.

Malik jumped in surprise and blinked, leaning back to stare up at Bakura in confusion. After all that happened, how could Bakura still want to steal his lips?

The thief grinned back at him smugly. "You know, it's fun watching you react whenever I surprise you with a kiss," he teased mischievously. To accent his point he suddenly moved to kiss the other boy once again.

Malik squeaked in surprise before his cheeks tinted bright red. He stared at Bakura, feeling rather embarrassed and confused. It was as if the bandit didn't even remember what had happened the past few days. Uncertain, the slave lowered his gaze and pressed his fingertips together. "...Bakura..."

Bakura noticed the change in Malik's demeanor, but acted as if he didn't as he kissed the tanned boy's cheek. "Hmm?"

"...Aren't you... mad at me...?" Malik asked weakly, his voice breaking slightly. His cheeks tinted at Bakura's kiss, turning a darker shade of red.

"Not any more," Bakura muttered against the other boy's skin before kissing there once more. He paused for a moment before he spoke quietly, though he tried to sound casual. "Are you upset at me?"

Malik shook his head as he moved to wrap his arms around Bakura once more. "You came back... I'm so happy..."

Once again Bakura felt a pang of guilt about how he hurt the other boy when he lost his temper. "Malik..." He wasn't sure what to say, so he softly kissed Malik once again.

Malik squeaked slightly as he was kissed again. He paused and peered uncertainly up at the thief, before moving to return the kiss. He wasn't sure why he did it, or what compelled him to do it; he supposed it had to do with the fact that Bakura kept doing it to him, so why shouldn't he? He had to admit that he rather liked the way it felt.

Bakura blinked, startled by the fact that Malik was actually returning the kiss for the first time. Every other time that he had kissed the blond, the other boy would usually get flustered and cover his lips or just allow the thief to kiss him. The fact that Malik was responding to affection filled Bakura with an incredible and wonderful warm feeling that he couldn't describe, but wanted to keep experiencing just the same.

Malik blushed brightly as he leaned back to look at Bakura, his heart racing. He could see that the thief was startled by the action, a feeling the slave himself felt. He had to admit, he rather liked it. He could see why his master kept stealing more and more kisses from him.

Bakura noticed the look that the tanned boy was giving him and felt self-conscious for a reason he couldn't identify. "What?"

Malik tilted his head slightly, and then cracked a small smile. "Nothing." With that, he moved to bury his face in his master's chest once more. He cuddled up against the thief, listening to the other boy's heartbeat and assuring himself that his master had indeed come home.

Bakura wasn't sure what to think about that but decided not to pursue the topic. Malik looked just too precious to bother by being defensive right now. He finally felt relaxed, as it seemed as if everything was all right again between them. All he wanted to do now was enjoy the moment with his companion.

After a moment the thief noticed that his slave had gone very quiet. "Malik?" he asked softly, not wanting to spoil the moment, but he was curious about why the blond was being silent.

It was then that Bakura realized that Malik had fallen asleep, finally at peace now that he had been assured that Bakura wasn't angry with him. He looked so relaxed, his muscles finally easing up as the stress melted away.

The silver haired boy blinked in surprise at how quickly the other boy had fallen asleep. He then realized that Malik must have slept very poorly, if at all, while he was gone. Again he felt a pang of guilt. Likely his slave didn't eat anything either and such thoughts only made him feel worse.

Bakura made a face. He never liked feeling guilty. Obviously he had to do a better job of taking care of Malik to stop feeling that way. He decided then to try and be more careful where the other boy was concerned. He may not have been used to being around people a lot, but for Malik he'd try his best to make the other boy feel safe and happy.

Malik, oblivious to Bakura's thoughts, sighed as he cuddled against his master. Everything was fine; Bakura was with him once more. He was safe and content.

As Bakura watched Malik sleep, the silver-eyed boy wondered if the blond would be able to be coaxed into being more independent again like he was before their argument, or if his slave would now be permanently too timid to make a move on his own thanks to the thief's actions.

Bakura let out a sigh as he dropped his head back down onto the pillow. It was too hard for him to know, and he was sick of beating himself over it, plus it was getting harder to think that clearly at all due to how tired he was. He decided not to reflect on it anymore for now and get some rest.

Malik wasn't the only one who didn't get any sleep while they had been apart.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter Nine

----

Consciousness came unusually slow that morning for Bakura. Normally he would awaken almost instantly and was a very light sleeper, as both traits were absolutely essential for a thief, however even he could sleep like the dead after staying awake for two days straight and using a good deal of his energy.

The first thing the silver haired boy became aware of after opening his eyes was that he had forgotten to douse the torches last night. After a moment he wondered if the light interfered with Malik's sleep. It was then that his sleep-fogged brain noticed something else, something crucial.

Malik was not there.

With a start Bakura sat up almost instantly and looked around. "Malik?" he called, wondering where his slave had disappeared. The blond's absence was rather unnerving, as he would always be the first to wake up to find the other boy in his arms. He had grown used to the feeling of Malik lying on top of him and enjoyed watching the tanned boy sleep innocently, so obviously comfortable and at ease in his presence.

It was then that Bakura realized that the faint but terrible smell of something burning wasn't just the lingering remnants of the bad dream he just had. He stared towards the doorway for a moment as the obvious solution to both the smell and where his overly eager slave must have gone. "He better not be burning himself along with whatever he's trying to cook," the thief muttered aloud to himself as he quickly got out of bed, got dressed, and then strode off swiftly towards the kitchen.

Malik hummed to himself as he stood at the oven, trying his best to cook the dried meat without realizing that it was already cooked. He looked quite filthy, with dirt smudging his skin and wisps of smoke coiling around his head. The smoke clung heavily to his entire person, making him smell like he needed a bath most desperately. Of course, he didn't notice it as he was dead set in cooking a wonderful meal for Bakura. He had already roasted a sliced apple for the thief and burnt some bread, so all he needed was to cook some meat and it'd be a balanced breakfast.

"Do you even have any idea what you're doing?"

Malik jumped slightly, startled, then glanced over his shoulder. "Eh? Bakura-?"

Bakura leaned against the nearby table as he gave the other boy a droll gaze. He should have expected the blond to try and cook for him eventually, but he didn't expect it to happen so soon after they had just made up. He doubted that the tanned boy even had the first clue about what he was doing. "You're burning the meat," the thief commented as he pointed at the smoking oven.

"Ah! Oh!" Malik quickly turned back to the oven and lifted the meat off of the oven with a fork before putting it on a plate. It was definitely charred, looking more like charcoal than any kind of edible substance. Not that the crispy apple or the singed bread looked any more appetizing. "I made breakfast!"

"More like fertilizer for the garden," Bakura muttered as he eyed the charred fare. "It's too burnt to eat."

Malik blinked at that, staring at Bakura for a moment before he turned to look at the food. After a moment, even he had to admit it looked pretty inedible. He had screwed up again. "..."

Bakura paused for a moment as he realized a little too late just how callous his statement had been. Mentally he kicked himself before he walked over to Malik and slipped his arms around the blond's waist as he pulled the other boy close, ignoring the grime and the pungent smell of smoke that clung to Malik's body. "But that's understandable," he said in a soothing voice, hoping to undo the damage he had just done. "You had to steal scraps all your life and I bet no one even allowed you to look at good food, much less showed you how to make it, right?"

Malik nodded weakly as he leaned back against Bakura, his shoulders slumping slightly. He felt awful; he thought he'd have a nice breakfast for Bakura but all he did was waste food and his time. He must have looked like such a fool.

Bakura couldn't help but sigh. Once again he had crushed Malik's fragile spirit. He had to learn how to be more tactful about the other boy's lack of knowledge. "It was really nice of you to let me sleep and try to make breakfast for me though," he murmured in the tanned boy's ear. It had been a very long time since someone had done something for him for no other reason than to make him happy before Malik came along. It didn't matter if his companion's attempt failed; the fact that Malik wanted to do such things for him gave the silver-eyed boy a warm and pleasant, almost tingling feeling inside. "Thank you." With that Bakura moved to kiss the blond softly on the lips to express his appreciation.

Malik made a 'mwerf' noise into the kiss. He blinked at Bakura, his cheeks tinting, then smiled weakly. His master was thankful? Maybe it wasn't a total fiasco...

Bakura lightly pressed his forehead against Malik's so that he could gaze into the other boy's lavender eyes. "Don't feel bad about messing up, all right?" he asked, hoping to lift Malik's spirits. "It happens to everyone. I mess up a lot too." The first thing that came to mind in that regard, of course, was how easily he was able to hurt the other boy with a few thoughtless words or actions.

Malik blushed a little brighter and nodded, his smile strengthening. He was relieved Bakura wasn't angry with him and even seemed to be happy about his burned surprise. It couldn't be eaten but at least the thief appreciated the attempt. He knew his father would've been outraged, but he wouldn't have cooked for his father in the first place. For Bakura, he was willing to try.

"I don't know much about cooking either," Bakura continued, pleased to note that the blond was starting to cheer up. "But I can teach you what I do know if you want me to."

"Okay!" Malik nodded eagerly. If he knew how to cook, he could whip up some wonderful meals for Bakura!

"Great," Bakura said with a grin. Even if this likely meant they were going to ruin more food and make a big mess, at least it would be worth it to see Malik's smile.

----

"You know, you really surprised me, Malik."

Malik tossed his clothes aside, and then sneezed. He could practically taste the smoke, leaving a bitter tang in his mouth as his entire body felt absolutely disgusting. Normally, he wouldn't have minded feeling of dirt; he had been covered with more disgusting things in his life, after all. But he had slowly gotten used to being clean, so his skin was taking a lot of offense to being dirty again.

Noticing Bakura had spoken to him, the tanned boy looked up and tilted his head. "Surprised you?"

Bakura dropped his soot-covered robe and sarong aside haphazardly before glancing at the other boy. "After the mess you made before, I thought it would take you a lot longer to learn how to cook," he commented as he removed the last of his clothes. He genuinely had been surprised at how quickly Malik had caught on to the basics of cooking, and they had barely added on to the mess that the tanned boy had made earlier. However, this didn't prevent both of them from needing a bath after they had their breakfast, particularly since the thief couldn't help but press up against and occasionally cuddle his already very messy slave. Malik was just too cute to resist getting close to. "You're a very fast learner."

"Oh!" Malik practically beamed at the compliment, his face lighting up with joy. He couldn't accurately express how happy he was to have made Bakura pleased with him - it was a feeling he had never gotten before and now actively cherished.

Bakura paused after he finished removing his clothes and eyed the other boy. Unable to help himself he suddenly moved to steal a kiss from his slave's lips.

Malik squeaked in surprise, and then gawked at Bakura in confusion. No matter how many times the thief stole a kiss; he doubted he would ever get used to it. "Bakura?"

"Did you know how cute you look when you're happy?" Bakura asked, though he already knew the answer. He then quickly stole another kiss from the blond before the tanned boy could respond to his rhetorical question.

Malik 'mwerfed' into the kiss then giggled. He smiled impishly at Bakura and shrugged. "Apparently!"

Bakura grinned widely, showing off his teeth, before he poked the blond's nose. "Hey."

"Eeeep-!?" Malik jumped in surprise, instinctively covering his nose.

"You didn't argue with me about you being cute," Bakura pointed out as he grinned even wider.

Malik paused, his eyes widening as he thought that over a moment, and then made a face. He was torn between denying his cuteness and simply agreeing, a conflict clearly present in his expression.

Bakura noticed the blond's desire to argue with him, and quickly decided to prevent that as well as make good use of the other boy's distraction by stealing yet another kiss.

Malik jumped again and blinked at Bakura, momentarily startled out of the debate. He tilted his head, then wrinkled his nose and grinned wryly. "You taste like smoke."

"So do you," Bakura retorted as he poked the other boy's wrinkled up nose, causing another squeak to escape Malik. "That's why we're taking a bath, remember?" With that he turned to step over the stone rim of the bath and into the warmed water, inadvertently giving his companion an excellent view of his bare backside.

Malik's eyes trailed down Bakura's back to the thief's exposed rear, more against his will than anything else. He couldn't help it; he also couldn't help staring a bit too intently as it wiggled with each step Bakura took.

Bakura paused as he felt Malik's intense gaze at his back and glanced over his shoulder at the blond. "Hmm?"

Malik slowly and regretfully pried his eyes way from Bakura's backside, then nearly leapt out of his skin when he realized the thief had seen him ogling. His face turned apple red as he fidgeted, nervously. "Ah-! Um...!"

Bakura's lips slowly curled into a wicked smile as he realized exactly what his companion had been looking at. "Are you getting in or not?" he asked as he shifted his stance, jutting his hip slightly out to one side so he could place his hand on it. His new stance did quite interesting and alluring things to his rear end, as well as gave a tantalizing glimpse of something more because of how his legs were positioned.

Malik's eyes widened, his eyes trailing down Bakura's body of their own accord. He stood immobilized, staring as his mind locked up and could only comprehend one thing: Bakura's backside was very perky.

The thief was well aware of where his slave gaze was intently focused on. Part of him felt more than a little self-conscious at the gaze, as he wasn't quite used to being naked around someone else yet, but for some reason it didn't seem to bother him much when it came to Malik looking at him. Maybe it was because of how often he had stripped the blond for one reason or another. Privately he couldn't help but feel a little thrill that he could attract as much attention from his companion as Malik could from him. "Well? Are you going to stand there staring all day?"

"Uh..." Malik shook his head quickly, trying to dispel the image of Bakura's bare rump regardless of how _pleasant_ it was. He swallowed hard, then nodded sharply and strode quickly towards the tub. "I'm c-coming!"

"Good," Bakura said as he then moved to sit down in the water, which unfortunately hid is rear from Malik's gaze. "I was starting to wonder if you wanted to watch me do this by myself."

Malik grunted, trying to ignore his disappointment that his view was covered, and moved to sit in the water by the thief. "I, ah... I just... um... I was distracted."

"By what?" Bakura asked, as if he didn't know.

"Um... something," Malik replied, guiltily. He wasn't about to admit he had been staring at Bakura's backside.

"Oh?" Bakura cocked his head to the side coyly before he reached over to grab the bath supplies from the side of the bath where he had placed them earlier. "Is there something on my butt?" he asked casually as he observed the blond's reaction out of the corner of his eye discreetly.

Malik looked absolutely mortified, as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar so to speak. "Ah... um... I... n-no, it's... it's fine..."

"Oh really?" Bakura turned to grin at the blond mischievously. "So you like it?"

"Uhmmm... well, ah..." Malik's face couldn't possibly get any darker. He paused, and then fidgeted. "Do you like mine?"

Bakura blinked, caught off-guard by the blond's counter to his question. He thought for a moment about whether or not about how to answer that. "I'll answer that question if you answer mine first," he retorted.

Malik eyed Bakura and huffed, crossing his arms. "But what if my answer causes you to change your answer?"

Bakura gave his companion an odd look. "Why would it do that?"

"...I don't know," Malik admitted, fidgeting. "...Maybe I worry too much."

Bakura's eyes widened at the slave's admission as he let out an almost overly dramatic gasp of surprise.

Malik looked up sharply, startled by Bakura's surprise. "Huh?"

"First you admitted that you're cute, and now you admitted you worry too much!" Bakura gasped in incredulous amazement akin to seeing gold rain from the sky or the gods having a dance party. "It's a miracle!"

"...Are you making fun of me?" Malik muttered, eying Bakura. He wasn't sure if he should be upset or amused by Bakura's reaction.

"Just a little," Bakura admitted coyly before he poked the tanned boy's tummy. "But that's only because I think it's about time you got some self-confidence."

Malik giggled, unable to help himself, as he was rather ticklish, and rubbed his stomach. It felt so strange to hear someone tell him he needed more confidence; he never had any before and that suited his father just fine. In fact, if his father had even suspected he was getting a bit too cocky, it'd have it beaten out of him. It was a bizarre experience to hear someone _encourage_ it. "...I guess so."

Bakura tilted his head slightly as he looked at the other boy with a surprisingly gentle smile on his face. "It's good to see you getting better," he commented quietly.

Malik went quiet at that before smiling slightly. He moved to lean up against Bakura, seeking his warmth. He had to admit; there was something wonderful about being with someone who actually cared.

The thief couldn't help but widen his smile as he slipped an arm around the tanned boy's waist to pull the blond closer and leaned back against Malik. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it again, as he found he couldn't think of anything to say, serious or joking. Instead of trying to rack his brain for something or force something else to break the silence, he decided to enjoy the moment as it was.

Malik rested his cheek against Bakura's shoulder and closed his eyes, content to simply sit in silence and enjoy their closeness. It was moments like these that made him feel truly alive.

Bakura let out a soft sigh as he rested his cheek against his companion's head. He paused to take in the scent of the blond's hair then began to cough as he inhaled the smell of smoke that still clung to it, accidentally breaking the magical moment between them.

Malik blinked before peering up at Bakura, smiling wryly. "Smoke there too?"

Bakura nodded as he covered his mouth to try and stifle his coughing. "We should get cleaned up," he said once he managed to calm his body down.

Malik nodded before he paused to eye Bakura oddly.

The thief blinked as he noticed the other boy's look. "What?"

Malik paused before he suddenly lunged and dunked Bakura under the water.

Bakura barely had a chance to cry out in surprise before he was gurgling water. He sputtered, flailing to get out of the tanned boy's grip, before he finally surfaced with a gasp and coughed up the water he had accidentally inhaled.

"Er, ooops! Sorry!" Malik squeaked, moving to Bakura's side as he saw the thief choking on the water. "I don't... I don't know what came over me!"

Once Bakura was able to breathe normally again he gazed at the blond through narrowed eyes. "I'll just bet you don't," he muttered as he gazed at the other boy with obvious suspicion.

Malik hesitated, and then fidgeted. "...Are you mad?"

Bakura eyed his companion for a few moments longer before suddenly he pounced Malik into the water with a playful roar.

Malik squealed as he fell over, eyes widening, before he slipped under the water and gargled.

Bakura surfaced with a gasp then began to laugh as he helped the blond sit up. "Does that answer your question?" he asked coyly, leaning in close to his slave.

Malik coughed up water, brushing his bangs back as he sputtered, before he eyed Bakura. "...No, but I bet this does!" the slave quipped before lunging to pounce Bakura into the water.

The silver haired boy let out a yelp, not expecting the attack, before he tumbled back into the water with a splash.

Malik let out his own yelp as he also went tumbling with a splash, having misjudged the force of his pounce.

Once again Bakura surfaced from the water coughing and pulled up the blond with him so that they could both catch their breath.

"G-gyuh," Malik sputtered. "T-that didn't... w-work!"

"I'm more used to tackling people than you are," Bakura commented once he could breathe normally again.

Malik huffed as he brushed back his hair, looking thoroughly soaked. "I got me more than I did you!"

Bakura couldn't help but laugh at that. "Maybe I should let you soak yourself for me."

Malik pouted as he eyed Bakura, some of his hair slipping back to dangle over his eyes.

Chuckling, Bakura reached out to brush back the soaked bangs from the blond's face. "You know, you're also cute when you pout," he commented before stealing a kiss from his companion.

"Y-you say I'm cute when I do anything!" Malik accused the thief, huffing.

"Ever think that it's because you are just plain cute?" Bakura retorted mischievously and then kissed the blond once again.

Malik blushed and shrugged helplessly, feeling at a loss as his lips kept being stolen. "Do I... at least smell better?"

Bakura smiled mischievously before grabbing the soap and a washcloth from the side of the tub. "Yes, but we need to use some of this anyway."

Malik simply nodded before looking around for his own washcloth. He was wet enough, so he didn't think he needed much soaking.

However, Bakura had different ideas in mind as he lathered up the washcloth he held with soap and then started to scrub Malik's skin for the other boy, starting with his slave's back.

Malik was startled at first but quickly relaxed, turning slightly so that the thief had plenty of access to his back. He shivered, arching his shoulders as he felt the washcloth brush against his skin slowly. It felt rather good, like a slow back rub. "Mmm..."

Slowly Bakura rubbed the washcloth in circles on the tanned boy's back, going progressively lower at each rotation. "Feels good?" he asked with an impish smile on his face even though he already knew the answer.

Malik nodded slowly as he slumped his head forward, his muscles relaxed. He rather liked being tended to; it was almost as if he were the master... That thought startled Malik, as well as made him feel a gush of guilt. He really shouldn't think such things like that!

"Something wrong?" Bakura asked as he noticed the other boy flinch.

"...I... I was thinking a bit too... arrogantly," came Malik's quiet response.

"Eh?" Bakura blinked as he paused in his work then moved to catch a glimpse of the other boy's face. "What do you mean?"

"...It's embarrassing," Malik muttered, shyly. "I just... thought... it felt nice being tended to... and... I..."

"And it made you feel like you were royalty and I was your slave, right?" Bakura guessed as he quirked an eyebrow.

Malik nodded slightly, looking very guilty. He supposed he might as well admit to it; it was better than worrying about it.

"I have been pampering you quite a bit, haven't I?" Bakura mused thoughtfully as he resumed scrubbing the tanned boy's back. He hadn't really considered much about his treatment of Malik save for the fact that he was trying to take care of the other boy, who desperately needed it. "But the difference there is I did it because I wanted to. Not because I had to, like a slave would."

Malik furrowed his eyebrows at that before glancing over at the thief. It began to make him wonder about his relationship with Bakura. He was a slave, and yet he wanted to make Bakura happy; likewise, Bakura wanted to make _him_ happy. "...Bakura?"

"Does that bother you?" the silver haired boy asked as he paused in his work once more. It would make sense if Malik couldn't stand being waited on and felt that he had to serve someone in order to feel at ease, considering the blond's horrible father.

"No, no!" Malik shook his head vigorously. "I just... I was wondering..."

Bakura blinked at that and tilted his head slightly. "About what?"

"What... am I?" Malik murmured. He realized that wasn't much to go on, so he cleared his throat. "I mean, what am I to you? Am I a slave...? I mean... I know that's what I chose back then at the village, but... it hasn't been anything like what a slave should be."

The question startled Bakura, causing him to stare at the other boy, at a loss. He honestly had forgotten about the promise Malik had made to become his slave after everything they had gone through together. He hadn't truly given their relationship much thought aside from the fact that he took care of Malik and the other boy kept him company, so he had no idea how to really answer the blond's question.

After about a minute of silence, Bakura realized that Malik was still waiting for an answer and tried to think of something to say to simply explain their situation. "Well... you're... you and I are..." The thief made a face as he allowed his voice to trail off. Instead of giving his companion an answer he was just making himself look and sound foolish, which aggravated him to no end.

Malik looked at Bakura intently before swallowing hard. "...I just... I just want to know if I'm really a slave and you're my master or... or if... if..." He didn't dare say it, as it was too inconceivable.

"If...?" Bakura pressed, wondering what the blond was thinking.

"...If you're... you're my..." Malik's voice, a bare whisper, trailed off.

"...Friend...?" Bakura supplied very quietly, as if the word was sacred.

Malik nodded slowly, the action barely noticeable, as he watched Bakura for his reaction. It was a bit presumptuous of him to think such a thing, but he couldn't help it.

Bakura was silent as he considered the emotional minefield that they had both just entered. It was one thing to act as if they were together innocently without really thinking about it or trying to label their relationship, and another thing to stop and identify it. Calling someone friend, when both of them had so very few close to them in their lives, was a very important label.

For some reason the term "friend" didn't seem to quite fit, at least not to Bakura, who hadn't wanted to trust anyone to get close to him like he had with Malik. His relationship with the blond seemed a bit closer than friendship, since they enjoyed kissing and touching one another often, but he had no idea what to call it. It wasn't as if they were lovers...

Oddly enough the very thought brought an uncomfortable heat to the thief's face and at the same time made him feel distinctly uncomfortable. Just the fact that they were so close that the line blurred created a great conflict inside of him. Everyone he had ever cared about, friend or loved one, had been taken away from him in the most terrible ways possible. Despite how he refused to believe that the gods cursed him like Malik so readily did, a part of him quietly feared that if he did admit to how much Malik meant to him out loud, it was just giving the gods, or more than likely the gods' "messengers" an open invitation to steal the only person who meant anything to Bakura anymore, and particularly one who was starting to mean so very much.

Bakura didn't know what to say, really, but knew that Malik needed an answer, even if it wasn't a very good one. "I... guess so..." he admitted in a quiet voice. "I mean... I never _really_ thought of you as my slave... or thought of myself as your master."

"...I guess I just wanted to... know if we're... equal..." Malik murmured, feeling increasingly bold the longer the thief didn't seem to get angry. He felt arrogant and rude, acting so presumptuous as to think they might be equal. His father would've beaten him senseless - however, Bakura wasn't and would never be his father. He looked up at Bakura and smiled weakly. "Just, beyond that... I don't know..."

The silver-eyed boy nodded hesitantly as he returned the weak smile with one of his own. "Yes, I do think of us as equals..." he mumbled, feeling a little bit better at the fact that he wasn't the only one who was uncertain.

"Would it... be okay if I... I didn't worry about being a slave or you being my...?" Malik ventured, feeling quite the rush. He couldn't explain how he was feeling - it was as if he were stepping foot into the Promised Land while looking around for a guardian to bite his foot off.

"I would prefer that actually," Bakura answered as he smiled a little more, feeling some relief. Maybe this meant that Malik wouldn't get so easily hurt every time he said the wrong thing or acted a bit too rough. "I would rather you think of me as Bakura instead of 'master'."

"I won't... get in trouble?" came the timid, almost child-like response.

Bakura gave the other boy an odd look. "With who?"

"With you," Malik murmured as he looked at Bakura. "You won't get mad?" He didn't want to remind the thief of what had happened the last time he got a bit too uppity.

Bakura quirked an eyebrow upwards. "Didn't I just tell you that I would like you to think of me as an equal?"

Malik made a face at that and nodded. "...Yeah... so I guess... it's okay..."

"Right." Bakura grinned crookedly as he moved to lean against the tanned boy slightly. "You're Malik and I'm Bakura... and that's all we need to think of each other as... right?"

Malik nodded as he grinned weakly at the thief. He leaned back against Bakura, drawing closer to him so that he could feel the other boy's heartbeat. He was a bit surprised at how timid the thief was being, but he supposed it had to do with such a strange topic. Perhaps the thief was no better at people than he was? "Yeah..."

"Good..." Bakura murmured as he rested his cheek against the top of the other boy's head and slipped his arms around the blond's waist. He tried to ignore the lingering scent of smoke that clung to both of them, as he didn't want to interrupt the moment again like last time.

However, it was Malik's turn to sneeze, some of Bakura's hair tickling his nose.

Bakura blinked in surprise at the sudden sneeze then chuckled quietly as he brushed some of his damp hair back over his shoulder. "Cute," he observed.

"There you go again," Malik murmured as he rubbed his nose, but couldn't help but grin.

"You have a problem with me pointing out that you're cute?" Bakura asked rhetorically as he gave his companion a crooked grin.

"Hmph," Malik sniffed disdainfully, though he couldn't help grinning, before he took the washcloth and lathered it up.

"Oh, right, we still have to finish taking our bath," Bakura commented as he noticed what the other boy was doing.

"Hmph," Malik repeated, smiling wryly before he moved to rub the cloth at Bakura's chest.

"Ah!" Bakura gasped, not expecting the action. He couldn't help a light pink flush that appeared across his cheeks as the tanned boy caressed his chest through the somewhat rough washcloth; the action felt far better than it had any right to. "A-ah... um..."

"Hush, it's my turn to clean you!" Malik replied, feeling an excited rush at being able to say that. He grinned as he rubbed at Bakura's chest slowly, gently running the washcloth in small circles across the thief's skin.

"A-ahh... I..." Bakura tried not to squirm as the pink hue on his cheeks darkened until it was almost red. While he did understand the blond was returning the favor of cleaning him, it didn't change the fact that Malik's fingers kept rubbing his chest almost teasingly through the washcloth, enticing his senses. He couldn't help an occasional sharp gasp as the blond grazed across the more sensitive areas, creating an incredible tingling sensation that somehow magically traveled through every nerve in his body.

Malik hummed, not noticing Bakura's face as he trailed the washcloth downwards. "I'll wash you, and then you can wash me!" He hesitated when he realized how demanding that sounded and continued in a quiet voice. "If that's okay?"

"R-right," Bakura said as he nodded shakily. His body grew warmer with each passing moment as Malik touched his body in such innocently wonderful ways. He bit his lower lip as the other boy began to scrub his stomach, causing it to tremble due to the sensations. The thief tried to not to think of how good it felt to be touched in such a way by his companion, or it how it caused certain stirrings in his body. While it what Malik was doing felt pleasant, something that felt _this_ good, this intimate was too new to him, causing his uncertainties to be aroused along with his body.

Malik noticed Bakura's trembling and blinked, then peered up at Bakura. "What's wrong...?"

"N-nothing!" Bakura automatically responded, trying to stop his shivering. "I-I'm fine..." He couldn't tell Malik how he was feeling; otherwise the blond would get upset again. It was better just to try and ignore these new feelings until he got more used to them.

Malik quirked an eyebrow at that but dismissed it. If something were wrong, Bakura would tell him. With that, the washcloth trailed lower still along Bakura's body. "Okayyyy..."

An uncharacteristic squeak escaped Bakura as the blond's wrist lightly bumped into a very personal and obviously _aroused_ part of his body. He couldn't help but jerk his hips back at the touch and move his hands to cover himself automatically as the flush on his cheeks darkened even more.

Malik paused and blinked at Bakura's hands, then eyed the thief. "What's wrong? I can't clean you if you cover yourself."

"I..." Bakura had to think quickly about how to gracefully evade the question with as little embarrassment as possible. "My back needs to be cleaned first!" he blurted out, saying the first thought that popped to his head. He then attempted to carefully turn around while keeping his hands protectively shielding his most private area.

Malik blinked, at a loss, before nodding. "Alright..." With that, he moved to scrub at Bakura's back gently.

Bakura tried to be quiet as he sighed in relief and started to relax as he enjoyed the feeling of Malik rubbing his back. He felt grateful that the other boy didn't press the issue. Now all he had to worry about was calming his body down.

Malik silently mused over Bakura's behavior as he rubbed at Bakura's back, slowly moving the washcloth in circles as he trailed it down the thief's body. Why was Bakura acting so nervous and jumpy all of a sudden? And why was he denying anything was wrong?

"Feels good," Bakura muttered quietly as he enjoyed the tanned boy touching him. However, as the blond was working his way lower along the thief's back, he was starting to near more dangerously sensitive areas once again.

"I'm glad," Malik beamed as he slipped the washcloth lower, brushing it against Bakura's rump. "I'll get you all cleaned up!"

A loud yip escaped Bakura as his bottom was touched and he couldn't help but jump slightly against his will.

"Eh!?" Malik jumped as well, squeaking. "Bakura-!? What's wrong!?"

"Nothing-!" Bakura protested immediately as his hands went to cover his rear protectively. Was there no place on his body that Malik wasn't able to make feel far too good for his own good?

Malik made a face as he looked at Bakura, holding the washcloth tightly. He was pretty certain something was wrong _now_; no one jumped like that over nothing.

"It's... time to clean my hair," Bakura said quickly, thinking fast to avoid the situation. He then reached out quickly to grab the bottle that contained a fragrant mixture of bath oil and soap.

Malik took that moment to strike, moving to touch the washcloth to Bakura's personal area. He watched the bandit intently, seeing if that was the source of his reaction.

Instantly Bakura's eyes widened as he jerked his hips and failed to bite back a cry at the sudden assault of sensation, unable to help himself due to the unexpected attack on such an extremely sensitive part of his body. He didn't even notice that he had dropped the bottle he held in his hand, as he barely kept from falling over into the water.

Malik jerked back with a cry, startled by Bakura's reaction. He slipped and went tumbling under the water with a squeal, splashing noisily.

"M-Malik?" Bakura panted as he glanced over his shoulder to see the tanned boy flailing in the water. Quickly he lunged to grab one of his companion's wrists and yanked the other boy upwards before the blond hurt himself.

Malik choked as he wrapped his arms around Bakura, clinging to him desperately as he coughed. His hair clung to his face like a mop, making him look quite hilarious - not that he found it funny, personally.

"Are you okay?" Bakura asked, concerned as he held the tanned boy close. He tried to resist the shiver that wanted to run up his spine, as his sensitized body was pressed so closely against Malik's that the other boy's warm and soft skin only served to spark his hormones even more; one area in particular enjoyed the feeling far too much, despite the thief's attempts to ignore it.

Malik sputtered and brushed back his hair with one hand, pressing closer with the other. He grimaced as he felt something hard and uncomfortable against his stomach and peered down, wondering if that's where the soap had gone. He was rather surprised to see that it wasn't the soap, to say the very least.

Bakura froze as he realized that Malik had noticed the very thing he did not want the blond to notice. He stared at the other boy unable to think of what to do or say now that he had been caught with his pants down so to speak.

Malik blinked slowly before lifting his gaze to meet Bakura's, his cheeks rather red. He was rather speechless, uncertain of what to say or if he should say anything. "...Um..."

Once Malik had spoken, Bakura was finally able to react. "Sorry!" the thief yelped as he quickly backed up and turned around in an attempt to hide his arousal, even though it was already too late. He couldn't help but feel horribly embarrassed even if he couldn't explain exactly why.

"For what..?"

"I..." Bakura faltered, unable to figure out how to respond to that. Hesitantly he glanced over his shoulder at the blond, noticing that the other boy was picking the washcloth back up. "You... didn't mean..."

"...Is it... bad?" Malik glanced at Bakura, his expression surprisingly neutral as he held the washcloth. "...For that to happen?"

"Ah..." Bakura stared at Malik, his cheeks still flushed. He had no idea how to answer that question. No one had ever told him anything about this aspect of life, not that he had anyone to ask or wanted to ask, but something so new and strange had made him intensely nervous none the less. How could he explain to the other boy why he felt so unnerved by his body's reaction when he couldn't understand it completely himself?

Malik looked at Bakura intently before moving closer, holding the washcloth. "Does it hurt?"

"Well... no..." Bakura started to flush darker again as his voice dropped down lower. "I-in fact... it actually felt... really good..." It might have made his stomach twist in embarrassment to admit, but Malik deserved to know the truth behind how he was acting; he didn't want to upset the person who meant so much to him again, and the blond's neutral demeanor made him worry that he had already.

"So, what's the problem?" Malik tilted his head, clearly confused. "It doesn't hurt... in fact, it feels good. So why are you upset?"

"I..." Bakura faltered as he made a face. He still had no idea how to properly explain how he was feeling so instead he just shrugged awkwardly. "I've never... felt this way before..."

"I've never felt a lot of ways before," Malik replied, matter-of-factly. "I've never felt happy before. I was afraid of being happy before because I thought it made me a bad slave, but... well, you said it was okay. So why isn't this okay?"

Bakura stared at his companion, at a loss. Was this really how Malik felt whenever he kissed, touched, and teased other boy? Did the other boy's feel as self-conscious from his every touch in the way that he did; not just because of the scars the blond's cruel father created?

"...I've been experiencing a lot of new things," Malik muttered as he looked at the washcloth. "...Like eating until I'm full... or simply eating whenever I want! Sleeping in late... bathing and staying clean for longer than an hour... having someone who cares... it's all new. New things keep happening. And if I... freak out every time something new happens..." he trailed off, unsure if he lost his point or if he ever had one.

Bakura was silent as he considered Malik's words. The blond had a very valid point and, as the thief thought about it more, the tanned boy had been taking the changes better than he had. While he would always seem calm and controlled, really he didn't think much of taking care of another person's physical well being, as he treated the other boy similarly to himself. It was experiences that brought intense and unfamiliar emotions that caused him to react badly: when Malik had gotten sick and then later resisted him so strongly at being tied down were just a couple of them, and he hadn't taken either of those incidents well at all. Even when he wanted to kiss Malik for the first time, he had initially became panicked and backed away from the blond immediately. It suddenly struck him that as much as he was trying to get close to Malik whenever his friend retreated due to anxiety; the other boy was doing the exact same thing to him.

The thief couldn't help but crack a crooked smile at the irony. "I guess you're taking all these changes better than I thought," he commented wryly as he moved to slip his arms around Malik's waist and pull the other boy close once again, in spite of what sensations such an action might bring.

Malik squeaked in surprise, and then blinked at Bakura. He tilted his head, and then smiled slightly. "I don't know about that..."

Bakura smiled a little at the other boy before he buried his face in the tanned Egyptian's neck. "It's been a long time since I've had anyone care about me either," he confessed in a quiet murmur against Malik's skin. "I'm still getting used to it... just like you are."

"...Oh..." Malik blushed at that, shivering at the feeling of Bakura's breath against his skin. "...Okay... We can get used to it together..."

"Mmm hmm..." Bakura nodded a little and noticed the shiver that ran through the other boy's body. A wicked smile slowly appeared on the thief's lips as an idea occurred to him about how to help them both get used to it, which he eagerly put into action.

Malik gasped in surprise as he felt Bakura's lips brush against his shoulder, then made a soft noise as his shivers increased. He felt as if he had butterflies in his stomach, his legs growing slightly weak. What was Bakura doing? Or rather, why? "Ah... ah...?"

The thief paused in his actions so that he could glance up at the other boy's face. "Is this too much for you?" he asked, wondering if Malik wanted him to stop. He was determined now more than ever to try and get closer to his companion without either of them retreating again, but to do that he had to make sure that he wouldn't push too hard.

Malik shook his head, blushing. He glanced at Bakura, smiling hesitantly. "N-no, just... different."

"I see..." Bakura wondered if that meant the blond wanted to stop, but after their earlier conversation, that possibility wasn't very likely. With that thought in mind he moved to brush his lips against the blond's shoulder once again, slowly trailing hot kisses along Malik's smooth chocolate colored skin to his companion's neck.

Malik gasped again, his pulse starting to race. His body was growing interestingly warm, particularly in certain areas. Was this what Bakura had been feeling that made him so nervous?

Bakura couldn't help but thoroughly enjoy the quiet sounds Malik was making with each hot kiss he lavished upon the other boy's body. Not only did he enjoy pleasing the blond, but he also felt the guilty pleasure that he was paying Malik back for driving his body so crazy earlier.

Malik arched his back as he drew closer to Bakura, unable to help it, as his breathing grew ragged. He wasn't sure what was coming over him, but he had to admit he rather liked it.

Caught on an impulse, Bakura experimentally grazed his teeth along Malik's throat, lightly tickling the other boy's sensitive flesh with his unusually pronounced fangs, as he took care not to puncture the skin.

The former slave let out a soft giggle and squirmed, tilting his head back slightly. "B-Bakura... tickles..."

"Mmnh..." Bakura tried to suppress a shiver as Malik's squirming caused the other boy's body to brush against his in a delightful manner. "Should I stop?" he murmured huskily against Malik's throat before he gently and purposefully tickled the blond's Adam's apple with his fangs.

"Ah... I... I don't know..." Malik murmured, his voice surprisingly husky. "Do you... want... to stop?"

"Not when it makes your voice sound like that," Bakura teased before he flicked his tongue across his companion's tender flesh.

"E-eeeee..." Malik arched upward, gasping. "B-Bakurrrraaaa..." he moaned, shifting his hips slightly so that they inadvertently brushed against Bakura's.

Bakura let out a sharp gasp against Malik's throat as their hips brushed, which sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through his body with surprising intensity. He couldn't help but moan as he pulled Malik closer and his hips moved against his will to brush against the other boy's so that he could feel that pleasure again.

Malik cried out as he grasped Bakura's shoulders tightly, his hips trembling. He could barely restrain himself from bucking back, his senses screaming eagerly for more.

Bakura couldn't help but answer Malik's cry with one of his own as his hips eagerly bucked against the tanned boy's. Vaguely he noticed that his hard arousal was brushing up against something equally hard and wonderfully hot, but it was too difficult for him to think too much of it, as his body demanded more of the intimate contact he and Malik were sharing.

Malik whimpered as he tightened his grip, finally allowing his hips to return the favor. He murmured Bakura's name breathlessly, his body burning with each motion - it was beyond anything he had ever felt before!

Bakura shifted slightly so that they could more easily rock together. He moaned Malik's name throatily into the other boy's ear, tickling it with his breath, before running his tongue along it, occasionally nibbling along the edge gently.

"Bakura... ahn..." Malik mewled softly, rocking with the thief as he wrapped his arms around Bakura's neck. He bucked slightly, crying out at the sharp spike of pleasure. "Feels... good...!"

Bakura was unable to answer as he made a loud array of incoherent pleasured noises, the thrusts of his hips now moving franticly to an irregular pace against the tanned boy's. All at once the muscles in his body tensed up and he threw his head back to scream Malik's name as he lost all control of himself.

Malik didn't even notice Bakura's screams as he frantically moved his hips against Bakura. He grew vaguely aware that the thief wasn't cooperating anymore and let out a low growl before grabbing Bakura's hips and bucking against them. Before he could be startled by such uncharacteristic behavior, his attention was immediately diverted as he felt something explode inside of him. He cried out in surprise, his body tensing, before blinking blurrily.

Shaking his head to clear his vision, the boy fumbled back and peered down at Bakura. He nearly jumped when he saw the mess on their bodies. "W-what the-?!"

Bakura blinked blurrily as he recovered from the intense pleasure that had assaulted his body. Panting, he glanced downwards at the white cloudy water surrounding them, as well as the white spots that adorned the front of their bodies. "Ah...?"

"Um, um..." Malik glanced at his body before looking at Bakura, a bit bewildered. "...Ooops?"

After a few moments of quietly taking in what had happened and retaining his senses, Bakura couldn't help but chuckle softly. "So _that_'s what happens..."

"What?" Malik blinked before pointing at his stomach, particularly at the mess upon it. "This?"

"Yes, that," Bakura snickered as he used a finger to wipe off some of the white substance from his companion's stomach. Curiously he rubbed it between its fingers, noting its gooey consistency, and then brought it close to his face so that he could see what it smelled like.

Malik's cheeks tinted at the sight. "O-oi, should you really do that?"

"Do what?" Bakura asked, his voice teasing, before he licked the cream from his fingers, noting the unusual salty, yet somehow extremely intriguing flavor.

Malik stared at Bakura, looking absolutely mortified, as the thief tasted the ex-slave's 'mess'. He had no idea why it seemed so kinky and perverted, but he supposed it had to do with what they had been doing to create it - not to mention where it came from.

"Tasty," Bakura said with a mischievous smile before licking his lips. He could see how embarrassed the other boy was, which was likely just as much as he had been before, but for some reason he just couldn't help himself.

Malik fidgeted, still looking mortified, before he coughed. "W-we should... get cleaned up..."

Bakura nodded before pausing and then eyed the blond. "Are you sure you can behave yourself?" he teased, smiling wickedly.

"I could ask you the same..." Malik murmured, embarrassed. "You were misbehaving too!"

"Well, you could still ask, but I think we both know the answer," Bakura said with a mischievous grin before he suddenly stole a kiss from his companion's lips.

Malik squeaked, then made a face and licked his lips. He could taste the lingering hint of himself on Bakura's lips. It was a strange and exotic taste, one he wasn't sure if he liked or disliked. "Hn..."

"Hmm?" Bakura blinked and tilted his head slightly as he looked at Malik with curiosity, wondering what was on the blond's mind.

"Er, nothing, I just... well, I tasted..." Malik hesitated, and then shrugged. "Never mind."

Bakura had a pretty good idea what Malik had intended to say and wasn't sure what to think of it. After a moment of indecision, he decided to not let embarrassment prevent him from teasing the other boy some more. "Well... if you don't like the taste of yourself..." He purposefully tried to make his voice low and husky to cover up any lingering embarrassment he may still have had. "You could always taste me."

Malik paused at that before looking at Bakura. "...You wouldn't mind...?"

Barely resisting the urge to blush, Bakura nodded, and gave the blond a crooked grin. "I tasted you, so it's only fair."

Malik had to agree that made sense. He also had to admit he was rather curious what Bakura tasted like. With that in mind, the ex-slave moved closer to the thief and ran a finger along his former master's stomach.

Bakura couldn't help but shiver a little at the other boy's touch because of how ticklish it felt, and barely held back the urge to let a giggle escape him. He then watched Malik intently, wondering if the blond would like how he tasted. The thought made him blush lightly in spite of himself.

Malik looked at his finger before leaning close to gingerly lick at it. He felt highly embarrassed for doing such a thing, but he couldn't help it - curiosity had won over shyness. He noted it tasted rather unique, though somehow enticing. He suspected the fact that it belonged to Bakura helped.

Bakura resisted the urge to fidget as he waited for the blond to render his verdict. Unfortunately, he couldn't help but grow impatient. "So... what do you think?"

"...Interesting," Malik replied before giving Bakura a wicked grin once he realized he was making the thief nervous. "Very... interesting."

"I... see..." Bakura said slowly as he stared at Malik, completely stunned by the almost evil look on the normally incredibly innocent former slave's face.

Malik blinked as he noticed Bakura's expression and tilted his head. "Something wrong?"

"The way you looked just now..."

"The way I looked just now...?"

"You looked... just like me!"

"Eeeeh-!?"


	10. Chapter Ten

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter Ten

----

"Nnngh... It's... getting hard..."

"Don't stop now... you're almost there..."

"But I can't finish it...! It's too _BIG_..."

"No it isn't. Just relax and take it nice and slow..."

"But... it's just so much to swallow at once!"

"Not if you do it a little bit at a time."

"Mfff... I can't... I've got a headache..."

Bakura let out an irritable huff as he leaned back against the headboard. "Fine, we'll take a break," he said, trying not to show his frustration.

"Sorry," Malik murmured as he slowly closed the book. He glanced back at Bakura, feeling guilty over being so difficult. "I... I guess I'm just not smart enough."

"No, you just convince yourself that you're too dumb to learn anything and defeat yourself," Bakura grunted as he made a vague gesture in the air with his fingers. "You will _never_ learn to read if you don't stop doing that."

Malik slumped his shoulders, sighing softly. "I'm sorry..."

Bakura let out a weary sigh before he pulled the blond back against him. He had been sitting behind Malik, helping the other boy try to read one of the books from the library, which had been comfortable save for the tanned boy's pessimistic attitude. "Stop that."

"I'm so-," Malik immediately cut himself off, covering his mouth. He glanced back at the thief and shrugged helplessly.

Bakura eyed the tanned boy blandly. "One day, Malik, I'm going to break you of that habit so that you'll only say you're sorry when you actually mean it," he proclaimed dryly. He then lifted his legs slightly, placing the bottoms of his feet onto the sheets, so that he could allow for better circulation while he waited for Malik to get ready again; inadvertently he brushed them against the other boy's hips because Malik sat so closely in front of him that the blond was practically sitting in his lap.

Malik blinked as he noticed Bakura shift, then sighed and leaned back against the thief. Things had changed so drastically since the incident in the bathing room days before. Ever since then, Bakura had grown increasingly more "hands on" - it was inconceivable that the silver haired boy had ever been embarrassed by it.

The former slave had finally finished healing completely, scar and blemish free thanks to the wonders of sorcerer medicine. He was finally able to explore the cave and do some work without worrying Bakura, but he soon found things were still radically different.

Now that he didn't _need_ to do anything, the former slave found himself having to ponder what he'd _like_ to do. Such a thought never occurred to him before.

It was during this time that Bakura had discovered Malik's inability to read. Malik hadn't thought too much of it, but the thief had made up his mind: he was going to teach his former slave how to read, one way or another. Malik suspected it might have had something to do with proving his father wrong; something Bakura was almost obsessed with doing.

Almost as obsessed with goosing him whenever his back was turned...

As if his former master could read his mind, Bakura's hand chose that moment to slip sneakily towards the tanned boy's rear to gently squeeze it, just short of pinching the tender flesh.

Malik jumped with a squeak, immediately snapping to attention. "Ah-!?"

Bakura immediately put his hands behind his head and quickly found the wall quite fascinating just before the other boy turned to look back at him. After a moment he pretended to notice Malik's attention for the first time and glanced at the blond as if nothing had happened. "Hmm? Done with your break yet?"

Malik wrinkled his nose as he eyed Bakura suspiciously. "...Oooiii..."

"What?" Bakura asked, acting as if he were the very picture of innocence.

Malik sighed and shook his head before settling back down. Bakura would always sneak attack him, so there really wasn't any point in getting upset about it. Besides, it wasn't as if he didn't _like_ the attention - though, he could do without the pinching.

It was at this time that Bakura started to softly caress Malik's thigh, interrupting the other boy's thoughts once again.

Malik squeaked softly as he snapped to attention once again, and then glanced down at his thigh in an attempt to spot the culprit.

Unfortunately Bakura proved once again why he was an excellent thief with those quick and sneaky fingers of his, which had been discreetly moved to idly scratch one of his knees. He appeared rather bored as he gazed at the walls, apparently innocently waiting for the blond to be ready to read again.

Malik turned to look at Bakura dryly, his expression deadpanning.

It apparently took a moment for the thief to notice the other boy's gaze. "Hmm?" Bakura tilted his head slightly as he looked at Malik. "Yes?"

Malik huffed before crossing his arms as he continued to _gaze_ at Bakura.

"What?" the bandit asked, feigning innocence quite convincingly. "Is there something wrong?"

Malik made a noise of frustration. What was the point in getting irritated? Bakura would only pretend to be innocent about the whole matter!

Without warning the thief chose that moment to steal a kiss from the blond's lips.

Malik jumped in surprise and sat up, turning to face Bakura completely. "O-oi!"

"What?" Bakura asked between soft chuckles before he leaned in closer to the other boy so that they were nose to nose. "Did you expect me not to steal a kiss from those pouty lips of yours?" he teased. Again he surprised his companion with another sudden kiss.

"Mwr-!" Malik's cheeks tinted brightly at the kiss. He leaned back and glowered at Bakura, though the feeling was definitely more sulky than angry. "I t-thought you were going to teach me to read, not molest me!"

"Oh, so you're finally done with your break now?" Bakura asked as he quirked an eyebrow.

Malik paused at that, blinking, before eying Bakura suspiciously. "...Was that what you were trying to do?"

"What was?" Bakura asked coyly as he tilted his head slightly. Sneakily he placed a hand on Malik's stomach, softly rubbing the other boy through the slightly rough clothing.

"Y-you know perfectly well-!" Malik broke off with a gasp as his stomach quivered against that rubbing. "O-oi!"

"Hmm?" Bakura paused in his actions as he tilted his head a little more.

"You're teasing me!" Malik whined, looking terribly embarrassed.

"Me?" Bakura gasped before he feigned as if he had been wounded by the accusation. "I'm just waiting for you to be ready to learn how to read again!"

Malik huffed as he eyed Bakura, and then picked up the book. "Fine! Let's just get this over with!"

"I am so glad to see you enjoy my lessons," Bakura quipped sarcastically before sitting up so that he could read over Malik's shoulder.

Malik paused at that before drooping guiltily. "...Sorry... I didn't mean it like that..."

A slightly frustrated sigh escaped Bakura. "I know," he said as he slipped his arms around Malik's waist, pulling his former slave close.

Malik leaned back against Bakura, tilting his head so that his forehead rested against the thief's cheek. "...How did you learn to read?"

Bakura blinked at the other boy. He hesitated for a moment before answering. "My parents taught me a bit of it, but I mostly had to teach myself," he explained before reaching out to tap the book the blond held. "This was one of the books I used in fact."

"Oh," Malik blinked at the book before peering at Bakura. "...Wow... that must've been hard..."

The thief couldn't help but let out a weary sigh at the memory. "Extremely."

Malik looked at his former master before nuzzling him. "I'll... try harder."

Bakura blinked at the action, and then couldn't help but smile affectionately at the blond. "Good." He then moved to kiss his companion softly.

Malik blushed before turning to stare at the book. He made a face and slowly opened it, trying to ignore his feeling of dread. He once again exposed the numerous squiggly lines that were supposedly words, staring at them blankly. "...Um..."

Letting out another sigh, Bakura reached out to place a finger beneath one of the strange marks on the parchment. "Okay, repeat after me: 'the sky is blue'," he said slowly, sounding out each part of the word as his finger moved beneath each character on the page.

Malik's eyes followed Bakura's finger. "The - sky - is - blue." he repeated, though he didn't understand why those squiggly lines stood for that and not something else.

Bakura noticed the expression on the lavender-eyed boy's face and let out another sigh. "Let me guess: you've forgotten what each symbol stands for, right?"

"I... I'm sorry..." Malik replied, slumping his shoulders again. "I just... can't tell one squiggle from another!"

Bakura resisted the urge to sigh again as he held his head. If nothing else Malik was teaching him a valuable lesson in patience. "Maybe we should try another approach," he muttered as he took the book and closed it. "How about I just write out all of the symbols and you repeat each one until you've memorized them?"

"Yeah, okay," Malik nodded, smiling weakly. He was disappointing Bakura so badly, he had to try to make it up to him. "I can try...!"

Bakura noticed the other boy's look and nuzzled Malik's cheek. "Don't let it get to you," he said soothingly. "You will get it eventually." He went silent for a moment as something that had been nagging at the back of his mind since that morning once again reminded the thief that it was there. He looked to the book as he set it aside, purposefully not looking at Malik as he spoke casually. "And when you do, you will have something to do whenever I leave the cave..."

"Leave?" Malik looked alarmed at that. "Leave the cave?!"

Bakura kept his expression carefully casual, still not looking at his companion. Ever since the incident that occurred the last time he left the cave, he had refrained from even so much as mentioning that he would have to do it again. Unfortunately the thief could only put it off for so long. "For things like getting supplies in town," he elaborated. "We are a bit low on a few things, so..."

"So I'm coming too, then!" Malik interrupted his former master, moving to cling to Bakura's shoulders. "I don't want to be left behind!"

Startled, Bakura turned to stare at the other boy. "What?" he asked, as if he didn't hear the blond's declaration correctly.

"I'm coming too!" Malik repeated, a bit more firmly. "I'm going where you're going!"

Bakura didn't know what to say right away, as he hadn't expected Malik to demand to come along with him so vehemently. He had thought that the blond would get upset and beg him to stay, maybe even cry, but instead the once slave was showing a surprising amount of forcefulness. "It'd be safer if you stay here," he said after he recovered his bearings. "The city and desert can be dangerous."

"You'll be with me," Malik replied, shrugging. "I'm safe if I'm with you."

Bakura couldn't help but let out a slight snicker and grinned crookedly at his companion. "Okay, you have a point there."

Malik nodded in agreement. "So it doesn't matter if the city and desert are dangerous. If I stay with you, no one can hurt me."

Bakura mulled the idea over for a few moments. The idea seemed to be a good one, but still, he had some reservations about it. "Are you sure you can handle a trip to the city?"

"Yes!" Malik was adamant. He wasn't going to stay behind – he would stalk Bakura if he had to.

Bakura regarded the determined expression on Malik's face. He had to admit; the blond seemed more determined than he had ever seen the other boy about anything else. It was kind of a turn on. "All right... but _only_ if you stay close to me the entire time and do _everything_ I tell you to."

Malik nodded vigorously, smiling brightly. He was glad Bakura was allowing him to come, as stalking a horse would be difficult. "Yes, yes, okay!"

Bakura couldn't help but feel good at the sight of Malik's bright and cheerful smile, and returned it with one of his own. "Good."

Malik beamed, then paused and made a face as a thought occurred to him. "Um... would your horse protest?"

"Probably not if I got him used to you first," Bakura said thoughtfully.

"_Probably_...?"

"Well, I am sure that Dusk won't buck you off and trample you to death with me there."

"..."

----

"Are we there yet...?" Malik whined; his face distorted with discomfort. His rump ached terribly, unused to riding, and it reminded him of this fact rather strongly.

Bakura let out a weary sigh as he sat behind the blond with his arms wrapped around the other boy's waist while holding the reigns firmly. Ever since they left Malik just would not keep quiet about how uncomfortable the ride was. It made the thief _almost_ long for the days that Malik was too terrified to speak when he first kidnapped his former slave, let alone complain. "The city gates are just up ahead and we will be inside them in a few minutes," he answered, his tone denoting just how weary he was at their journey.

"Good," Malik breathed a sigh of relief. "My rear hasn't hurt this bad since my father beat me unconscious with a chair leg!"

Instantly Bakura felt a wave of guilt hit him, causing his insides to feel as if they were twisting slightly. Of course Malik was silent and obedient last time they rode Dusk because of the other boy's horrible father taking to beating the poor boy as a daily ritual until the blond feared to utter a single word unless it was to beg for forgiveness. Even if Malik had been extremely annoying with his complaints, that was far better than seeing him weak, frightened, and broken due to abuse. Unable to help himself, Bakura pulled the once abused slave closer to his body. "Don't worry, we'll be there soon," he murmured in his friend's ear.

Malik blinked and glanced at Bakura, surprised by his sudden change in mood. However, he supposed it might not be a good idea to press Bakura – the thief would most likely deny it. Instead, he nodded hesitantly, and then managed a weak grin. "Okay..."

However Malik was quickly distracted from Bakura's change of mood as Dusk trotted towards the city gate. Even from the distance, Malik could hear the sounds of every-day life. The former slave went silent and listened intently, tensing slightly. He had never been outside in a crowd before, and had even been lectured (and beaten) into outright avoiding them. Yet, here he was going to the market of a large city during one of the busiest times of the day!

His father would have had a heart attack. Malik himself felt a similar episode coming on in spite of himself, suddenly feeling rather exposed and bewildered. He leaned back against Bakura, his breathing quickening.

"Calm down," Bakura whispered soothingly in the blond's ear, as he noticed Malik's growing panic. "It's okay. Just ignore them."

Malik twitched slightly before turning to glance at the other boy. He swallowed nervously and nodded, then leaned back against his former master seeking his comforting presence. Everything would be okay - he had Bakura with him.

"Just remember what I told you," Bakura said quietly as he brought Dusk to a halt just outside the gate. "Stay close to me and listen to me at all times."

The blond nodded vigorously as he pressed up closer to Bakura. "I know... I will..."

Bakura nodded as well, pleased at the response. "Good." He then carefully disengaged himself from the other boy before hopping off of Dusk's back, landing gracefully on the sand. Once there he turned to reach his arms out to Malik so that he could help his companion down as well. "Come on, we have to go the rest of the way in on foot. Dusk doesn't like crowds."

"He's not the only one," Malik replied as he moved forward to grip Bakura's shoulders, using the other boy for support as he slipped off the horse's back. "...I feel so naked."

Such a comment was rewarded with an odd look from Bakura as he regarded the blond blandly. "With how much clothing you're wearing?"

"...Well, I just recently got used to being bare around you," Malik muttered. He fidgeted and glanced down at himself, particularly his plain robes covering most of his body. The thief wouldn't allow him to wear the veil and hood, but he at least consented to the rather bulky clothing. "...But now a whole bunch of strangers will be looking at me, too!"

"I did not say I wanted you _naked_ around anyone but me," Bakura grunted as he put a hand on his hip. "I just meant for you to wear something comfortable like I am." He then gestured at himself and what he wore; a large nicely designed open blue robe, which exposed his chest, a darker blue sarong, and light colored slippers. The thief also adorned his ensemble with some jewelry, which helped to make him look as if he lived in the palace rather than in a cave.

"I know, but I still... No one's ever seen my face except for my father, my sister, and you. So it's... a bit weird." Malik shrugged helplessly. "I guess it's... silly to think that way."

"Yes it is." Bakura nodded in agreement before he poked the other boy's stomach. "Now, come on, let's go get something to eat before we start shopping."

Malik squeaked in surprise, jumping as he covered his stomach. He huffed and rubbed his tummy before eying Bakura. "F-fine, but remember! No stealing... and no hurting anyone."

Bakura made a face at that as he remembered the promise he had made to his once slave before they left their home. Malik had been as insistent towards coming along as he had towards his demand that the thief not steal from anyone or hurt anyone as he had the night that they first met. Bakura had no choice but to agree to the promise, or his companion would have kept whining and giving him sad, almost heart-breaking looks until he did. "Right... Unless it's in self-defense."

"How can you STEAL in self-defense?" Malik asked, arching an eyebrow.

Bakura gave his friend a sly look. "I have my ways," he answered enigmatically as he took the blond's hand and led his friend towards the city.

Malik blinked at that but made to follow Bakura, squeezing his hand. There was no point in arguing with Bakura - he had promised, so that was all that mattered.

The thief returned the squeeze as he grinned at his companion, and pulled Malik closer as they walked past the guards at the gates and into the city.

"You look like a nobleman," Malik murmured as they entered the city, staying close to Bakura's side. "Or a rich master of a palace with hundreds of slaves."

Bakura blinked at Malik, surprised at the comment, though he couldn't help but chuckle. "What would I need slaves for when I have you?" he teased as he pulled the lavender-eyed boy closer.

Malik blushed and let out a soft giggle before turning to smile at Bakura. Anything he was about to say had been cut off when the two of them entered the thick of the market place. Malik let out a sharp gasp as the city buildings gave way to _people_ - hundreds and hundreds of _people_.

"Keep close to me," Bakura said lowly in the blond's ear, though he kept his voice loud enough to be heard over the din of the noisy crowd. "It's easy to get lost in a crowd like this and there are usually at least a handful of pickpockets looking for an easy mark."

"...A thief trying to rob a thief?" Malik murmured, amused at the thought. However, he moved closer to Bakura just the same.

As Bakura wrapped his arm around the other boy's waist, he regarded Malik with a flat look. "I'm more worried about someone targeting _you_."

"Yes, well..." Malik smiled wryly. "They'd still have to contend with you."

"Of course they would," Bakura chuckled before a predatory look appeared across his features. "If anyone even _thinks_ of touching you, they will regret it."

Malik blushed brightly at the expression and nodded. "...You'll protect me. I trust you... so it's okay."

Bakura returned the nod with one of his own and a grin that allowed the other boy to catch a glimpse of his fangs, before he concentrated on where they were going.

Malik walked slowly with Bakura, occasionally glancing at him before looking around at their surroundings. "...Will Dusk be alright by himself?"

"He'll be fine." Bakura waved dismissively with his free hand. "Dusk knows where to go to find food, water, and shade near the city wall."

"No one will try to steal him?" Malik pressed as he walked with Bakura through the crowds. He was barely aware of the eyes occasionally turning to peer at him, though he tried not to show it; he felt like he was being appraised like a piece of meat for sale.

"The last time someone tried to ride Dusk, he kicked them in the face with his hooves and knocked out a good number of their teeth." Bakura smirked at the memory.

"...Okay, so it's a stupid question," Malik murmured, sounding a bit dazed. He idly wondered if Dusk really was a horse, or a wild cat in horse's clothing.

"Are you okay?" Bakura asked; growing concerned by the expression on Malik's face, as well as the other boy's tone.

"Ah?" Malik blinked, then smiled nervously and nodded. "Y-yes, just a... little flushed. But that's because of the heavy clothes, the heat, and being so close..."

Bakura let out an exasperated huff. "That's because you wouldn't listen when I told you to wear something _sensible_. Didn't I tell you this would happen?"

"I'm fine..." Malik assured the thief, shifting slightly. "I'm fine, really!"

"Good, then you won't mind if we go buy you some new clothes." Bakura then changed the direction that they were walking in.

"Buy-?" Malik faltered before moving to step in front of Bakura. "Buy me new clothes?! But... that'd be so wasteful!"

Bakura paused as he put his hands on his hips and gave Malik a piercing _gaze_, saying nothing.

Malik paused before he withered under Bakura's gaze, hunching his shoulders. He could practically feel Bakura disapproving of what he just said, eliminating the need for the thief to say a word. The blond shifted slightly, then shrugged. "...Okay?"

Bakura grinned, smug in the fact that he won the argument without even speaking, and slipped his arm around the other boy's shoulders. "Good."

Malik sighed and walked with Bakura, idly noting it was best to pick his battles. Particularly if it was a battle he knew he couldn't win.

"What do you _MEAN_ this is the best you can offer me?! I bought this at _twice_ the price!"

Malik stopped in his tracks, his entire body going tense as his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

Bakura stopped as well as he looked at his companion. "What's wrong?"

Malik trembled slightly as he felt his insides freeze. Slowly, he started to turn his head to find the source of the screams. He _knew_ that voice...

"_That's not good enough!_" a man's voice bellowed, easily heard over the noise of the crowd. As such it was easy to find the man with a tightly braided wig of hair wearing regal robes shouting at a cowering shopkeeper. "I _DEMAND_ you pay me full price!"

Malik's entire body started to tremble as his breathing quickened. He knew that voice, even above all the sounds of the crowd. He would always remember that voice, haunting him in darkness and light; a reminder of what he had been and what he had accepted for too long.

It was his father.

"Malik?" Bakura asked, speaking loudly to get through to his friend. He glanced between his companion and their surroundings, trying to find what had upset him. His gaze quickly settled on the loud man, suspecting that the person upsetting the other people in the market place might be the culprit.

"...F-father..." Malik whispered, his voice harsh.

Bakura's eyes widened before they narrowed sharply. Without a word he grabbed Malik, pulling the other boy close to him so that his body hid the blond's face, and then he quickly escorted Malik away from the man he hated so much.

Malik didn't seem to respond at first, forcing the thief to drag him. However, the further away they got from the father, the more the boy seemed to come to life. The young former slave moved to wrap his arms tightly around Bakura, like a vice grip, and buried his face in the boy's chest as he murmured hysterically.

Once they were out of earshot of the reviled man's yelling, Bakura pulled his friend into an alleyway for some privacy so that he could hold Malik closely and comfortingly, cooing into the other boy's ear assuringly, "It's okay, Malik... Don't be afraid..." Rage bubbled within the thief just beneath the surface. He so desperately wanted to kill Malik's father, and was tempted to at least tell the old man off in front of everyone, maybe even instigating the bastard into trying to hit him with that whip Malik was so afraid of so he could keep his promise to his friend and only hurt people in self-defense. He wouldn't have _killed_ the elder man in front of everyone; just broken every bone in the man's hands and feet so that they would have to be amputated. However, because of the fact that Malik was there and was so terrified, Bakura had quickly decided that what was more important right now was to calm and reassure Malik.

"Don't let him take me..." Malik whimpered as he pressed up his entire body against Bakura's. "Bakura... I don't want to go with him... don't let him hurt me...!"

"Shhh..." Bakura rubbed the blond's back in small circles as he held Malik as closely as possible, returning his attention completely to the frightened boy in his arms. "It's okay... I won't let _anyone_ take you away from me. Not now. Not ever." His voice dropped to an almost hiss. "I will kill them if they try."

Malik nodded, brushing his forehead against Bakura's chest as he clung to the thief with all his might. Slowly his body started to relax, allowing himself to be soothed by the comforting voice of his former master. He was safe - his father would never hurt him again.

Even as Malik began to relax, Bakura continued to rub his former slave's back. He even started to hum quietly in the blond's ear to help soothe the stressed boy. Malik would always relax faster when he hummed or sang to his friend.

Malik sighed softly and slumped against Bakura, his body no longer tense. He was safe in Bakura's arms, shielding him from everyone and everything that might try to harm him.

"Feel better now?" Bakura asked softly, his breath lightly tickling the other boy's ear.

"Mmm-hmmm..." Malik mumbled in response, shivering slightly at the ticklish breath. He shifted before lifting his eyes to look at Bakura.

"Good." Bakura smiled gently at the blond before brushing a few stray hairs away from the other boy's amethyst eyes. "Do you want to go to an inn now, or home?"

"...We still need to get supplies," Malik grunted. "We came all the way here, so we can't leave as soon as we arrive...!"

"Are you up to going back to the market?" Bakura asked quietly, watching his companion's reaction carefully.

"...Y-yes," Malik nodded hesitantly. "...But is it okay if we... avoid the area _he's_ at?"

Bakura grinned crookedly. "Well, that one clothing shop I mentioned earlier is in the opposite direction..."

Malik nodded as he gripped Bakura tightly. "Okay..."

As Bakura slowly escorted Malik out of the alley, his thoughts turned to one thing: punishing Malik's father for all that he had done to his friend.

It was only a matter of time.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter Eleven

----

"Oooough, I'm stuffed!" Malik flopped down on the bed, groaning as he rubbed his stomach.

"I told you not to eat so much," Bakura chided, though he also was guilty of eating a little more than he should have.

"But it smelled so goooood-!" Malik squirmed on the bed. "I couldn't help it!"

"Yes, I know," Bakura couldn't help but grin as he sat down beside the writhing blond before patting the other boy's stomach gently. "I told you this inn had the best food."

"But the bed's awful!" Malik huffed, stretching out across the mattress leisurely. "It's... so lumpy compared to ours!"

"Believe it or not this is the best they have around here," Bakura said as he made a sweeping gesture in the air with his hand. "Except for the palace, but you have to expect the Pharaoh to have the best bed to fit all his whores on."

Malik sat up and sighed. "...I guess I shouldn't complain. I never would've thought to complain BEFORE... I would've felt honored just to sleep in a bed."

"That's because I'm spoiling you," Bakura chuckled as he slipped his arm around the blond and pulled the other boy close.

"Is that a bad thing?" the former slave tilted his head as he leaned against the thief.

"Not at all!" Bakura grinned widely before he stole a kiss from his companion.

Malik squeaked in surprise before snickering, moving to lie on top of Bakura. "Hee, hee, guess so."

The thief let out a small uncharacteristic yelp as the blond surprised him by pinning him down on the bed. "What-?" He blinked repeatedly at the unexpected action then eyed the other boy.

Malik grinned impishly, sticking his tongue out slightly. "Since the mattress is so hard, I'll sleep on you instead!"

Bakura quirked an eyebrow upwards as he regarded the blond. "But I'm even lumpier than the mattress."

Malik grinned wickedly, the expression adorable on his face. "You're softer and warmer and snugglier!"

A light pink hue appeared across Bakura's cheeks against his will, as he narrowed his eyes at the other boy. "You're just saying that to pay me back for all the teasing I do to you."

"Nooo," Malik squirmed on top of Bakura to emphasize his point. "I sleep on you all the time, so why not now?"

Bakura let out a soft gasp as the squirming of the blond's body atop his own teased his senses, sparking up his hormones. "I meant what you said," he huffed, trying not to pout and failing.

"But it's truuuuue!" Malik giggled.

"Is not," Bakura retorted in a childish tone as he poked the other boy's nose for emphasis.

Malik squeaked, and then licked at Bakura's finger on an impulse. His cheeks tinted once he realized what he had done and shifted nervously.

The blush on Bakura's cheeks darkened slightly as he stared at Malik, surprised at the blond's boldness. "Ah..."

"...You didn't like that...?" Malik asked, his voice rather quiet.

Rather than say anything, Bakura leaned upward to flick his tongue across Malik's lips as his response.

Malik squeaked as he took his turn to blush darkly. Blinking slowly, the blond hesitated before he moved forward to flick his tongue along Bakura's cheek.

Bakura couldn't help but shiver and let out a soft gasp as he felt Malik's warm moist tongue run slowly along his skin enticingly. "Malik..." he murmured as his hands moved to touch the other boy's shoulders, rubbing them.

Malik moaned Bakura's name then moved to lick at the thief's other cheek, watching his reactions carefully. He wasn't sure what he was doing or way, save that it felt good to see Bakura react in such a way.

A low moan escaped Bakura's lips as he tilted his head slightly, enjoying the attention. While part of him wanted to return the favor and do even more, it would likely make Malik stop acting so delightfully bold, and that was something he certainly didn't want. "Mmh... Feels good..."

"...I'm glad..." Malik murmured against Bakura's skin, his face flushed. His heart was beating faster and faster, making him feel incredibly warm all over despite the fact that he was wearing his new, lighter clothing.

Bakura resisted the urge to shiver at the ticklish vibration of the other boy's voice against his body. "Malik..." he mumbled as his fingers slipped down along Malik's back to massage the blond's shoulder blades lightly.

Malik gasped as he arched his back, his breathing quickening. He trembled as he felt Bakura's warm fingers against his shoulder blades, kneading the muscles through his tunic. He shifted, causing his tunic to expose his shoulders slightly. "Ah...!"

Bakura couldn't help but smile naughtily as the displaced tunic gave him certain ideas. "You would probably be more comfortable with that off..." he observed as he started to tug at the blond's clothes. While he might have gone through all the trouble to get Malik a good amount of new clothes, right now he wanted them gone.

Malik blinked, and then snickered as he leaned back slightly to help remove his clothes. "And after all the trouble of buying them for me... for shame..."

Bakura smiled mischievously as he tossed the newly bought clothes onto the floor. "Hey, I bought them, so I say when you can wear them."

Malik burst out laughing at that, covering his mouth with one hand. "You're awful!"

"Well, I _am_ a thief." Bakura smiled roguishly before he suddenly grabbed his companion's bottom and gave it a playful squeeze.

Malik jumped slightly, squeaking as his face turned dark red. "A-ahn...! Bakura...!" He shivered before moving to lie down on top of the other boy once more, draping his arms over Bakura's shoulders. "You may be a thief... but you're a great bed, too!"

Bakura didn't know whether to be indignant or laugh at that remark, so instead he chose to smile crookedly. "Oh really?"

"Yes, really!" Malik replied, poking at Bakura's side.

The thief couldn't help but yip rather loudly at the poke, due to how it was in a ticklish area, as he jumped slightly. "Oi!"

Malik took his turn to smile impishly, moving his fingers in a ticklish manner along Bakura's sides as he sat on the silver haired boy's stomach. "Something wrong?"

Bakura was unable to answer, as he was too busy trying not to laugh from being tickled, though he couldn't help letting out a giggle or two. He also couldn't help but squirm, almost violently, as he tried to get away from the other boy's wiggling fingers. "O-O-OI-!"

Malik straddled Bakura's stomach, keeping his friend pinned to the bed as he traced the thief's ribs with his fingers. "Oi? Oi what?"

"S-st-stoooooooooooop-!" Bakura barely managed to exclaim amidst his laughter. Desperately he tried to snatch the blond's hands with his own after realizing that he couldn't escape the lavender-eyed boy's tickling.

Malik snickered as he allowed Bakura to grab his hands, lacing his fingers with the thief's. "Okay, fine! I'll be good!"

Bakura slumped with relief back onto the bed as he held the other boy's hands firmly, and paused to catch his breath. Privately he cursed having such a childish weakness. It was humiliating for a thief, especially one of his skill, to be so easily defeated by being _tickled_ of all things!

However, his pouting was cut short as Malik moved forward to kiss those sulky lips.

Bakura blinked at the sudden kiss and stared at the other boy with wide eyes, caught completely off-guard by the fact that Malik was actually _initiating_ a kiss for the first time. Inwardly he warred between being remaining irritated or not, but after a moment he decided to just let out a huff before he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sweet taste of his companion's lips.

Malik broke the kiss with a giggle as he leaned back, his fingers still laced with Bakura's. "Muuuuch better. You're cute when you're pouty but you're cuter when you're happy."

A light pink hue appeared across Bakura's cheeks, though he tried to ignore the distinct warmth there. "Now where have I heard that before?" he asked rhetorically as he eyed the blond.

"I don't know!" Malik replied in a singsong manner, snickering as he shifted slightly. "Your imagination?"

"Mnnnh..." Bakura let out a huff as he tried to ignore the blond's naked body as it moved on top of his, though the blush staining his cheeks grew slightly darker. "Well you're wrong about one thing."

"Hm? What's that?" Malik leaned close so that he was nose-to-nose with Bakura.

Bakura blinked repeatedly at their closeness, feeling his face grow warmer against his will. "I am not cute," he said after a moment before letting out another huff. Suddenly an idea came to him and he quickly moved to gently nip the blond's nose before the other boy could respond.

Malik yipped in surprise, blinking. He paused, and then grinned as he leaned in to lick at Bakura's nose. "Are too."

Bakura barely resisted the urge to yip himself or flinch back from the action out of reflex. Blinking, he wrinkled his nose, before letting out yet another huff. "Am _not_," he insisted in a childish tone. "I am a thief and thieves are not _cute_."

"Maybe not," Malik agreed as he looked at Bakura, 'seriously'. "But you're a bed, so that doesn't count."

Bakura blinked at the unexpected response before he regarded the blond flatly. "What if I decide not to be a bed any more?"

"Then you're a cute bed in denial!" Malik replied, struggling hard to keep a straight face. However, he couldn't help a slight grin breaking free of his solemn expression.

Bakura quirked an eyebrow upwards at that as he eyed the other boy. "Oh _really_?" he drawled as he considered something.

Malik nodded, unable to help but smile at the thief. "Mmmmhmmm!"

Without warning Bakura suddenly removed his hands from the blond's, grabbed Malik by the waist, and flipped the two of them over so that he was now pinning the other boy down to the bed, though he took care not to hurt Malik as he did so.

Malik cried out in surprise and instinctively tensed as he found himself hitting the bed underneath Bakura. "Ah-!?" He paused and stared up at the thief before a nervous half-smile crossed his face. "...Uh oh?"

"Who's the bed _now_?" Bakura taunted as he leaned in close so that he was nose-to-nose with Malik again, smiling smugly.

"Still you!" Malik giggled, moving slightly into a better position. "You're just upside down!"

Bakura made a face at that before he poked his friend's ribs. "Is that so?"

Malik squeaked and shifted, covering his sides with his arms as best he could. "Eeek! No fair!"

"What's no fair?" Bakura teased, grinning wickedly, as he poked the blond's bellybutton.

Malik curled up slightly as he struggled to shield his vulnerable underside. "Beds aren't allowed to tickle!"

"But _you_ are the bed now, Malik," Bakura pointed out with a smug grin. He then snatched the other boy's hands and held them away from the former slave's body before laying his body completely down on top of Malik's. "See?"

Malik's face turned right red as he felt Bakura's body against his own. He wasn't sure if it was good or bad that Bakura was still wearing his clothes while he was not - it saved him from direct skin contact, but did he really want to be saved from it?

They normally slept naked together, but that really wasn't it. Ever since the incident at the bath, things had felt different. It was as if there was electricity between them, where a simple brush or accidental touch generated intense feelings that they couldn't explain.

It was as if something were lurking under the surface, begging to be released but unable to be discussed. It was embarrassing, but enjoyable.

...And completely confusing.

At noticing the thoughtful look on Malik's face, Bakura paused before teasing the other boy further. Malik looked to be so deeply in thought with his face blushing so darkly that the thief couldn't help but be curious about it. "What is it?"

Malik blinked at that as his eyes went back in to focus, snapped out of his thoughts. "Hm? What?"

"You seem distracted," Bakura observed before poking the other boy's nose for emphasis.

"Eeep!" Malik wrinkled his nose, and then smiled weakly. "I was... thinking about something."

Bakura raised an eyebrow at that. "What was it?"

Malik's cheeks tinted as he looked at Bakura before averting his eyes. "...About how you make me feel."

That comment certainly piqued Bakura's interest. "Oh?" He leaned in closer to the blond, eager to hear more.

The former slave's cheeks tinted at the thief's sudden interest, then shrugged. "Well... how do I make _you_ feel?"

Bakura blinked at the question then quirked a crooked grin before he poked Malik's cheek. "I asked you first."

Malik squeaked, his face turning bright red, then sighed and turned to look levelly at Bakura. "...Just... very warm and... Um..." He trailed off, uncertain of how to continue. He hadn't been joking when he said it wasn't easy to discuss.

Bakura blinked slowly and all traces of amusement left him as he noticed Malik's mood and the seriousness of their conversation. He was silent for a few moments as he looked into the other boy's amethyst eyes before he spoke in a quiet, serious voice. "You get a strange feeling inside that you can't describe... but you still like it anyway... right?"

Malik hesitated before nodding, moving to touch his fingers against Bakura's stomach. "...Yes. I can't explain it... but it makes me... feel good. Ever since _that bath_..."

A soft gasp escaped Bakura as the other boy's calloused yet still soft fingers caressed his skin, causing it to tingle as well as tickle at the same time; he had to try and not laugh or shiver due to the feeling. "I... I've felt... the same way..."

"Mmm," Malik didn't know how to reply to that, so he instead leaned close to press his forehead to Bakura's chest. "...You smell good."

Bakura started to blush slightly as he looked at the other boy, uncertain of how to take the complement or how to respond. After a couple moments of thinking about it he decided to give up, and rolled over onto the bed beside Malik before he pulled his friend close once more.

Malik took the opportunity to cuddle up against Bakura, sighing. He didn't know what to make of anything; it was all over his head and beyond his general knowledge. He didn't think even the thief knew - and he was too embarrassed to ask.

Bakura shifted slightly to rest his chin atop the other boy's head and paused to breathe in the scent of Malik's beautiful golden hair. A spicy musk that was distinctly Malik filled his senses, urging him to breathe it in deeply. The scent was tinged with sweat that came from all the walking they did earlier, but that didn't take away from his enjoyment. He could understand why Malik wanted to breathe him in, if his own enjoyment of his companion's musk was any indication.

Malik shivered as he felt Bakura breathe in his scent, sending delightful chills down his spine. His heart began to flutter inside of him, as it always did when he was so close to Bakura. "I... wish I knew... what this meant..." he murmured softly.

"It means we're attracted to each other," Bakura breathed, his voice muffled, as his lips were pressed against the top of the blond's head. Even though he had lived alone for over half his life and had poor social skills because of it, he had seen enough from observing other people to pick up a thing or two. He couldn't help but privately enjoy the irony of the fact that he used to be disgusted at people who he saw openly expressing their affection for one another, yet that was mostly how he learned what little he knew about such things.

"But what does that _mean_?" Malik glanced up at Bakura. "...And what are we supposed to do about it?"

"Pretty much what we've been doing," Bakura answered as he reached out to touch the blond's cheek. "Here and in the bath."

"But... that just doesn't... seem enough..." Malik trailed off.

Bakura was silent at that, as he had been thinking the same thing. "What would you like to do?" he asked in a quiet, curious tone of voice.

"I don't know," Malik replied honestly. "What do other people who are attracted to each other do?"

"Mostly they kiss and touch each other." A crooked smile appeared on Bakura's face. "Like this..." He then leaned in to steal a kiss from the other boy's lips.

Malik made a noise before moving to return the favor, stealing a chaste kiss from the thief's lips. "And that's it?"

"Well... there is a _bit_ more..." Bakura said slowly as he looked at Malik through half-lidded eyes. He then demonstrated what else there was by running his tongue slowly up along the other boy's cheek, enjoying the unique flavor of his companion's skin.

Malik's breathing quickened at the action; his blush returning as he felt goose bumps form across his skin. "...A-ah, I see..."

"And sometimes a little of this..." Bakura murmured in an almost ticklish manner against the other boy's chocolate colored flesh before he moved to nibble gently on the blond's chin.

Malik gasped softly as he moved to grasp Bakura's shoulders, lifting his chin slightly. "S-some of that... is good..."

"_Some_?" Bakura repeated as he quirked an eyebrow and gazed at the other boy peculiarly.

"Well..." Malik looked at Bakura through half-lidded eyes, grinning slightly. "Some of this... some of that... a little of everything..."

Bakura regarded the other boy with a bland look. "Are you trying to be vague on purpose?"

Malik snickered before nipping at Bakura's chin. "Maybe!"

A soft yip escaped Bakura before he could stop it, as he was startled by the blond's action. He snickered softly after he quickly recovered, and watched Malik through half closed eyes as he enjoyed the exotic feelings, tilting his chin upwards to make it easier for the blond to nibble on before he realized it. "I see..."

Malik reached up to gently cup Bakura's cheeks, drawing him closer into a kiss. He never got enough of the thief's taste, craving it more and more every time he sampled a bit.

Bakura made a soft rumbling sound of please within his throat, almost a moan, as he returned the kiss and slipped his arms around the blond's waist. The flavor and petal soft texture of Malik's sweet lips seemed to beckon to him, enticing his desires of sampling more of his friend's flavor. Unable to help himself, he parted his lips so that he could experimentally briefly flick his tongue across the other boy's lips.

Malik moaned softly as his own lips parted unthinkingly. His tongue slipped out to shyly greet Bakura's own. His own arms slipped up to wrap around Bakura's neck, pulling the other boy even closer.

A moan escaped Bakura's mouth, though it was muffled due to their kiss, as their tongues timidly and somewhat clumsily slid along one another, tasting each other deeply. The sensations sent shivers of delight up the thief's spine and caused his pulse to race.

Malik murmured incoherently as his tongue explored Bakura's in an exotic kiss. Growing increasingly bolder by the second, the blond slipped his tongue along Bakura's before venturing in to the thief's mouth, diving for the source of the sweetness rather than the sample.

Bakura made a muffled noise of surprise due to how bold the other boy was being. He refused to remain startled for long, however, as his tongue eagerly dueled with Malik's, getting better by the moment, as he attempted to move even closer to the other boy so that he could invade his companion's mouth as well, despite his lack of skill.

Malik mumbled Bakura's name as he arched upwards, using his tongue to explore the thief's mouth thoroughly. He devoured the tastes he found within, even as he felt the thief do the same to him. It was addicting, beyond anything he had ever tasted before. He wanted more.

Unfortunately the exact opposite of what Malik desired occurred, as Bakura pulled back, breaking the kiss, so that he could gasp for air as if he were drowning. While he hated disengaging from the intensely passionate kiss so soon, he just couldn't hold his breath any longer.

It was only then that Malik realized how badly his lungs were burning. The boy gasped, his face flushed and eyes glazed, and proceeded to gulp down air. He was both frustrated at the kiss being cut short and the inefficient breathing - imagine such a thing as air getting in the way of what he wanted!

"There's _got_ to be a better way of doing this..." Malik grumbled.

Once Bakura had mostly recovered his breath, he noticed that his mouth and chin were wet with saliva. The obvious result of the kiss caused his cheeks to flush against his will, and he was quick to wipe the wetness away. Even though the kiss was messier that he would have liked, the thief had to silently admit that it was amazing. He could still taste Malik...

Malik noticed Bakura's action, and then felt his own mouth. He grimaced as he realized he wasn't in any better shape and proceeded to wipe away the mess. "Ooogh, was that supposed to happen?!"

"I have no idea," Bakura huffed, and wiped his hands off on his sleeves before checking to make sure that his face was dry now. "I don't usually like to watch other people kiss or ask them about it."

"...I should hope not..." Malik muttered unthinkingly as a surge of jealousy seemed to appear within him. He blinked, startled by his tone, and then blushed darkly.

Bakura stared at Malik in surprise at hearing the quiet irritated comment from his companion. After a moment a mischievous smile appeared on his face. "Of course... I did learn _some_ things from first-hand experience," he practically purred.

"W-what!?" Malik looked up quickly as his eyes widened. "Who!? WHEN!?"

Bakura blinked, startled, before he burst out laughing at the other boy's surprisingly strong reaction.

Malik blinked at that, then huffed and pouted. "What's so funny?!"

Bakura laughed for a little while longer before he managed to tone down his mirth. "You," he answered, still chuckling quietly.

"...Why am _I_ funny?" Malik asked, pouting.

"Because you're jealous of yourself!" Bakura explained, his eyes twinkling merrily with amusement.

Malik blinked at that, clearly taken back. He hesitated before blushing darkly, his face a lovely shade of red. "...Oh."

It was a struggle for Bakura not to burst out laughing again, although he did grin wide enough to expose his fangs. "Remember? I even told you after we first kissed on the cliff that I never kissed anyone before you."

"...I remember..." Malik's face was incredibly red, showing how embarrassed he felt. Bakura had set him up nicely.

A quiet chuckle escaped Bakura before he reached out to touch the blond's flushed cheeks. "Good. I would hope my kisses would be something to remember."

Malik felt goose bumps form on his skin, a tremor running up his spine as he felt the thief's soft hands against his skin. "It was... Bakura..."

"Good..." Bakura murmured as he slipped in closer to the other boy, his eyes closing halfway. "Your cheeks are so red... and so hot..." He used his thumbs to gently stroke the other boy's burning cheeks for emphasis.

"Ah..." Malik reached up to touch Bakura's hands, his heart racing. "Because you're making them hot..."

"Oh really?" Bakura smiled teasingly as he moved even closer to his companion. "And how am I doing that? By touching them?"

"Something like that..." Malik murmured as he instinctively moved closer to meet Bakura, gasping softly when their stomachs touched.

Bakura made a soft murmur of please before he closed the distance between them so that he could kiss Malik once more.

Malik leaned in to meet the kiss, mumbling Bakura's name as their lips met once more. He slipped his arms around Bakura's neck, his heart beating faster still.

Bakura's heart sped up while they kissed until it matched Malik's rapid rhythm beat for beat, which he could feel due to how closely their chests were pressed together. The exotic sensation served to create wonderful warmth in his stomach all over again.

Malik drew back just enough that he could speak. "Do you... want to try... again...?" he asked breathlessly, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Bakura smiled mischievously as he leaned in closer so that he was nose to nose with Malik. "Is that... a challenge?" he asked, his voice somewhat husky.

"Maybe... maybe not..." Malik replied, unable to help the grin that appeared on his face.

Bakura hummed softly, as if taking the time to consider that statement, before he suddenly licked one of the blond's still flushed cheeks.

Malik squeaked, then giggled before moving forward to lick at Bakura's cheek to return the favor.

The thief made an odd noise that sounded like a gasp mixed with a choked off giggle. "Hey... you copied me!" he mock protested, though he was smiling as he said it.

"And I'll do it again!" Malik replied as he leaned to lick Bakura's other cheek.

Bakura let out a quiet squeak surprisingly before he started to laugh. "Oh, _hoh_! So it's a duel of tongues, is it?" He grinned mischievously before quickly moving to swipe his tongue along the other boy's jawbone, trailing downwards along the blond's delicious tan flesh.

Malik shivered as he giggled again, leaning back as if to escape from Bakura. "Eee, oh no! Not that!" he laughed, unable to keep a straight face.

"You can not escape the king of thieves!" Bakura growled playfully, pretending to be intimidating. Without warning he suddenly pounced his friend onto the bed, causing it to bounce and make rather loud noises of protest.

Malik squealed in surprise before he burst out laughing. He squirmed slightly under Bakura, though he clearly had no interest in escaping. "Oh no! Someone save me!"

Bakura laughed, trying to sound sinister and failing. "No one can save you now!" With that he leaned in to lick one of Malik's ears experimentally.

Malik hunched his shoulders as he giggled, his face flushed. He grasped Bakura's robe with both hands, pulling the thief closer. "Ah... help! Help!"

"Mmm... No one will hear your cries..." Bakura growled playfully in the other boy's ear, tickling it. He then slowly ran his tongue along the outer edge of it, tracing every contour thoroughly. The flavor there was slightly different, but still unmistakably delicious, simply because it was distinctly Malik.

"Ahhhn..." Malik shivered as he tilted his head to give Bakura more room, his breathing quickening ever faster. "B-Bakura..."

"Like that?" Bakura practically purred in the blond's ear before licking it again, pleased that he found another way to make Malik feel good.

Malik murmured quietly, nodding as he gripped the thief's robe ever tighter. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat as he curled up against the silver-haired boy.

After a few more licks Bakura decided to experimentally nip gently on Malik's ear, curious about how the other boy would react to such an action. Just in case Malik didn't like it, however, he moved his hands to rub the lavender-eyed boy's sides.

Malik squeaked at the nip, then squirmed against Bakura. The bed creaked at the movement, protesting slightly. "H-hah...!"

Bakura took that reaction as a positive sign while he paused to enjoy the feeling of Malik writhing up against him. The sensation it gave him was so wonderfully enticing; it made him want to feel even more of his companion's bare body brushing up against his. With that thought in mind he leaned back so that he could remove his clothes, the only remaining barrier between complete flesh against flesh contact.

Malik blinked as he noticed Bakura's movements, then sat up slightly and tugged at the thief's clothing in an effort to help remove them. He wanted them gone just as badly as Bakura did!

Within a matter of moments Bakura's clothes were removed and discarded carelessly onto the floor, followed swiftly thereafter by his jewelry. Without so much as a pause, the silver haired boy practically lunged at Malik so that he could passionately kiss the blond's warm and moist lips with a playful mock growl.

Malik gasped at the rather ferocious response, then giggled in to the kiss as he wrapped his arms around Bakura's neck. "Mmm..."

Bakura smiled roguishly once the kiss ended as he gave the other boy a rather predatory gaze. "You're all mine," he said lowly, his voice husky with desire.

"All yours," Malik agreed as he arched upwards to brush against Bakura, shivering at the skin-to-skin contact.

Bakura moaned blissfully as he felt his senses burn wonderfully due to how Malik brushed against him. Vaguely he remembered what they had done in the bath not too long ago, but he didn't want this to end as quickly as that had. He was determined to make the pleasure he and the other boy shared last as long as possible.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter Twelve

----

Neighs and snorts filled the air, barely heard above the chatter of people, as horses lined the fenced in coral they were stationed at. There were horses of all shapes and colors, ranging from brown and tan to pinto and chestnut. Fastened to the fence by a rope around their necks, the horses shifted and snorted at passersby and each other, occasionally letting out a neigh or whinny for one reason or another.

"Wow... look at all the horses..." Malik whispered in awe, gaping at all of the horses. He had never seen so many before, or in so many colors. He idly noted he didn't see any black ones, like Dusk, but they were still quite beautiful.

"Why don't you go take a closer look at them, Malik?" Bakura suggested as he set the numerous bags that he had been carrying down next to his feet. He then sat down on a nearby rock and stretched his legs so that he could get the weight off the bottoms of his feet. "I'll just sit here while you do."

"Okay!" Malik agreed eagerly as he hurried over to the horses, giggling happily. He couldn't wait to pet them; he had always wanted to pet Dusk but had been afraid that the horse would bite him. These horses had to be better behaved!

Bakura couldn't help but smile as he watched Malik rush off to get a closer look at the horses with such enthusiasm. "He acts like such a kid," he thought to himself fondly.

As Bakura observed Malik cautiously touch the nose of an all white horse, he allowed his thoughts to wander. It had been well over two months now since that fateful night that he had first kidnapped Malik and took the once badly abused boy home with him. Since then many things had happened, both good and bad, which turned their relationship from kidnapper and slave to friends and lovers.

At reaching that realization Bakura had to pause for a moment. For a long time he had given up hope that he could ever find anyone who would ever give a damn about him, yet now he not only had someone who cared, but cared deeply enough to become his lover. Such an occurrence had seemed all but impossible, but Malik had proved him wrong. Now he was the happiest that he had ever been in his entire life. He couldn't think of anything that he wanted more than to spend the rest of his life with Malik.

...Well, of course there were some things that could have made him even happier, such as avenging the massacre of his village and some how miraculously having everyone else he ever cared for back. Even still, he wouldn't trade a single moment he spent with Malik for anything in the world.

Bakura let out a quiet grunt, knowing that he was obviously exaggerating thinking that. For example, he would trade that incident when he had hurt Malik by tying the blond down to the bed and yelling at him for any of the Millennium Items. Really, he would rather spend only good moments with Malik, despite how impossible such an event would be.

As Bakura leaned on a nearby fence post he idly itched his ear and his face contorted with irritation. Lately whenever he stopped to think about his relationship with Malik he would act extremely sentimental to the point of being nauseating, or rather what he used to regard as nauseating whenever he would notice a couple being obvious with their love in passing while in the city.

"Wonderful... I'm becoming a lovesick moron like the rest of them," he thought in agitation.

Again Bakura momentarily was startled out of his train of thought and he turned to look back at Malik, his expression pensive. "Love..." he murmured aloud to himself as he tried to wrap his brain around the word. Did he love Malik? Of course the answer to that question came as an immediate "yes", as it was obvious, even to someone like him who had lost hope for love a long time ago.

Malik giggled as a horse nuzzled at him, beaming brightly as he gently stroked the horse's snout. He was oblivious to the thief's pensive thoughts, cuddling the curious animal.

Bakura watched the blond silently as the word continued to flutter around inside his head like a trapped butterfly. Part of him wanted to deny it vehemently for no other logical reason than it was a foreign concept. There was a little fear about it too, and how vulnerable that made him, but he was far too proud to allow himself to give in to any sort of fear or doubt, especially when it came to something he wanted, and he knew without a doubt that Malik was someone he wanted. He knew that he would kill for the other boy's sake without a second thought. There was simply no denying that Malik was extremely important to him; the fact that he had done so many things with the blond that he never even dreamed that he would do with anyone proved that. The fact that he even had to sit down and give it as much thought as he was doing now certainly gave even more credible evidence.

Even though the silver-eyed boy could logically realize the obviousness of his being in love with Malik, it still felt very strange to him. Until he met Malik the only experience he had with love came from his family, and the only sort of friendship were from the kids his age that had lived in his village. Since that time he found out first hand how dark and cruel the world could be, especially to a child who had nothing. When his village died his heart felt as if it had died along with it. The fact that he had found love so suddenly was such a foreign concept to a person like him who had gone through so much. It made him wonder what he should _do_ about it; or rather, what _more_ should he do?

The first thing that came to mind was to tell Malik about it, but suddenly walking up to his lover and blurting out all of his feelings seemed wrong to Bakura, even after everything that they had already done together. It would be best if he waited for the right moment to say it. Tonight when they got back into the cave seemed best. They would be alone, and they would be able to relax and be comfortable. When at home they could kiss, cuddle, and make each other scream as loud as they wanted to afterwards.

Still, just saying, "I love you", didn't seem like enough for Bakura. Three simple words couldn't possibly be enough to express exactly what he felt for Malik, could they? How could three little words possibly convey how important that fact was to his friend? How, before Malik had come along, he had never believed that anyone would ever genuinely care for him at all, even if just a little bit. How he had lost count of how many nights he went to sleep completely and utterly alone. How empty he was inside, save for a desperate yearning for justice, and an almost maddening call for revenge that was, even now, slowly consuming more and more of his soul.

Bakura frowned. For one thing, he noted, he certainly wasn't going to tell Malik any of that. The blond had enough trouble getting over his own demons without the thief adding his own. If Malik knew just how much darkness there was staining his soul, then either his lover would want to flee, or would simply stay out of obligation to make him feel better like he had done for the lavender-eyed boy. No, it would certainly not do to tell Malik anything more about the darkness than he had already let slip out, especially when it came to a declaration of love.

With that area of thought resolved, Bakura decided to certainly stick with only positive things to say when he finally admitted what was in his heart. Even still, it was hard to find any other words than "I love you", that could properly express his feelings. No matter how much he thought about it, he simply couldn't think of a way to put into words all of the embarrassing warm and fuzzy feelings that Malik seemed to spark up in him.

When it got right down to it, the thief wasn't even sure exactly what it was about Malik that drew him to his lover so strongly. It couldn't have been just the fact that Malik had a body to kill for, since Bakura had seen very beautiful men and women before yet felt nothing towards them. It also couldn't be just Malik's personality, since a lot of times the blond infuriated him to the point that he felt like screaming out loud.

No, there was something unexplainable that attracted him to Malik, something that defied all logic and description. Because of this Bakura was simply unable to explain it other than the obvious fact that he was undeniably, completely, and hopelessly in love with Malik.

If it had been someone else that Bakura had kidnapped, anyone else, he would have gotten rid of him or her long ago. That was what he did every other time he did kidnap anyone before Malik. He certainly never took anyone else back to his hideout before and would have thought the very idea to be insane. After all, he knew very well all the risks of such a thing and they all far outweighed the rewards that he might have reaped from owning a slave. Also, the only real slave that he was interested in would have been the Pharaoh... before killing him of course. It had been a delightfully amusing idea to break the Pharaoh's spirit before finally feeding his most hated enemy to the vengeful spirits that the Pharaoh had created.

It had been foolish to bring someone that the thief had abducted to the only place that he had found to be safe enough to spend most of his time hiding. The likely result could have been that his throat would be slit while he slept or that his hideaway would be exposed should his prisoner escape. Despite all this, Bakura still wanted to bring Malik back to the cave with him; even after all of the frustration that the blond had given him since their first encounter. He would never have put up with so much from anyone else.

Bakura was certainly anything but naïve and he was no stranger to attraction and flirtation. Though it was always from someone else directing it towards him, such as a pretty girl who he caught the eye of while wandering alone in the marketplace. He would always snub anyone who tried to get a little too friendly with him in or snarl at them to leave him alone. The first time he visited the Pharaoh's city after he was forced to leave the ruins of his village taught him all too well the consequences of overlooking the subtle clues that someone was simply after his body or what he possessed. At that time, for all of his life since then, no one had ever cared about him unless it was to get something from him: what he owned, something that he could do for them, or even his body.

...No one except Malik that is.

Malik had a certain obvious sincerity to him, a special kind warmth that somehow could make Bakura confident that he truly cared for the thief when no one else in the world would. Not since Kuru Eruna was destroyed and everyone the silver-eyed boy had ever cared about had been slaughtered mercilessly had Bakura felt such warmth.

Now, though, Bakura did have someone who cared about him and who he could feel free to care about in return without being afraid that it was simply a lie to use him. Malik gave him something he had been desperately missing for too many years: love.

Of course none of that necessarily meant that Malik felt the same way he did...

Malik was oblivious to Bakura's musing, instead having his time monopolized by a rather pretty white mare. The horse kept nuzzling at Malik and snorting on the poor boy, causing the blond to squeal and giggle.

Bakura chuckled quietly at the sight, distracted from his current train of thought by his friend's antics. Sometimes Malik was just so unbelievably cute, particularly when the lavender-eyed boy was excited over something new.

Out of the blue an idea came to the thief about how he could add to that excitement, which caused a mischievous smile to appear on his face.

"Aren't you a friendly one," Malik murmured as he stroked the mare's nose. The mare sniffed at him, then nibbled on his shirt. "Are you this friendly with everyone?"

The horse shifted slightly as she continued to chew on the boy's shirt, flicking her ears about as if listening.

"Hee, hee," Malik giggled at that, then stroked the mare's snout. "Tasty?"

The mare tugged at Malik's shirt, bobbing her head as if to reply. The young boy laughed and shifted slightly, straightening his shirt.

"Trying to undress me in public, are you?" he laughed.

The mare continued to tug at Malik's clothes, ears pricked upwards.

"H-hey, that tickles!" Malik yipped, then laughed again. "You remind me of Bakura... Just can't keep my clothes on, can I?"

"Not around me you can't," came a mischievous yet familiar whisper that tickled Malik's ear unexpectedly.

Malik yipped at that, then blinked and glanced over his shoulder. "Eh-?!"

Bakura smiled with amusement at Malik as he stood closely behind the blond. "Enjoying yourself?" he asked, obviously amused.

"Ah," Malik blushed, both at being startled and at being overheard. "Yes... I was just talking to this horse..."

The mare rested her chin on Malik's head before glancing at the thief and snorting at him.

"It looked more like this horse was trying to tear your clothes off," Bakura commented wryly as he eyed the mare suspiciously. If he didn't know any better he could swear that the horse was being possessive of Malik.

"Just a nibble here or there," Malik replied, glancing up at the horse as she continued to rest her head on the blond's.

The mare snorted again, ears pricked up as she peered pointedly at Bakura.

Bakura returned the gaze before he suddenly pulled Malik out from under the horse's head and surprised his lover with a deeply passionate kiss.

Malik let out a surprised noise as he was suddenly kissed. He made a slight noise before melting into the kiss, cheeks tinting at being so passionately assaulted in public.

The mare's ears canted back before she snorted again, stomping her feet in irritation.

After about a minute Bakura finally pulled back to allow them both to breathe, casting a rather smug look to the agitated horse.

"Wha... what..." Malik gulped down air, face flushed, and then stared at the thief in confusion. "What was... that for?"

The horse continued to stomp, shifting back and forth as it made unhappy noises.

"Just making sure that your new horse knows who you belong to," Bakura commented wryly, grinning at Malik as he held the other boy possessively close.

"Huh?" Malik's eyes widened at that as he stared at Bakura. "My... my new...?"

"Surprise." Bakura grinned even more, enjoying the look of astonishment on his lover's face. "I purchased her from the merchant while you were busy fawning all over her."

Malik gawked at Bakura, literally thunderstruck. The thief couldn't have been serious; there was no way that he had just bought the former slave a horse!

"Well?" Bakura prompted as he poked Malik's stomach gently. "What are you going to name her?"

Malik squeaked and covered his stomach, then made a face. He never named an animal before, so he wasn't sure where to begin. However, a name quickly came to him - it was a word that had come to him when he first looked at the horse, reminding him of a special moment. "...Moonlight."

Bakura blinked in reaction to the name, before he let out a soft chuckle as he cocked his head to the side slightly. "Moonlight, huh?" he asked, mildly amused because of the fact that the name fit with the name of his own horse.

Malik nodded, a smile brightening his face. "Moonlight, because she makes me think of the moon!"

The newly christened horse turned about to bury her face in Malik's shoulder, snorting.

Malik giggled and turned to face the horse. "You like it, then? Moonlight?"

Bakura chuckled a little more, but made no comment. Instead he simply watched Malik enjoy the gentle horse that he had given the blond. Making Malik happy like this, whether it was by giving a gift or saying a kind word, and seeing the other boy smile, hearing Malik laugh in delight, filled his soul with such an incredible warmth like no one else ever could.

It was that thought that seemed to set off a twinge within the silver-eyed boy's heart, as if a string had been plucked. For the briefest of instants he was no longer in the Pharaoh's city with Malik. He was a little boy again standing in the middle of his village, watching the retreating backs of his family as they walked away from him.

The intense emotion that filled Bakura caused him to instinctively reach out for them as something akin to panic blossomed within his heart, but then the moment ended, and his parents were gone, his village was gone, and he was alone in the Pharaoh's city.

All at once it hit the thief, a strong static in the back of his mind, feeling as if it were a tangible thorny mass scraping against his brain. The hand that he had reached out for the phantoms of his family immediately went to hold his head, as he tried to recover his senses. He knew this feeling all too well, and he knew what it and the vision he just had meant.

The spirits of Kuru Eruna were calling him.

"Bakura?"

Malik blinked at Bakura, a bit concerned. The other boy had been staring off at the distance with a glazed look in his eyes and a slightly pained face. It was actually kind of frightening.

Bakura jerked as he was snapped back to reality, and the scratching feeling within his mind seemed to lessen enough for him to be aware of his surroundings again. For a moment he could only stare at Malik as he realized that for a short while there, he had forgotten about the lavender-eyed boy. Slowly, he forced himself to lower his hand from his head and gave Malik a weak grin at the sight of the concerned expression on his friend's face. "Ready to go?" he asked, hoping to try and alleviate the blond's worry.

Malik hesitated before nodding slowly, his expression making it quite clear that he was still concerned.

"Okay, good," Bakura muttered as he slowly regained his composure, and turned away from the other boy to untie Moonlight from the post the horse was tied to. "Let's go outside the gate then. I need to teach you how to ride your horse."

"Okay..." Malik said, though he couldn't help but worry. Bakura was hiding something from him - he didn't know why, he just had a bad feeling about it. Whatever it was, it was clearly upsetting the thief.

But surely Bakura would tell him about it when the time was right, so there was no point in dragging it out.

After all, Bakura had never kept anything major from him before.

----

Despite the fact that both of the boys wanted to return to their home as soon as possible, they had soon found that by the time Malik had finished the riding lesson and was confident enough to ride Moonlight on his own, the sun had already started to set. Surprisingly Bakura had been the one to suggest that they simply return to the inn for the night and make the trip back to the cave in the morning. Although this bothered Malik for some reason he couldn't identify, he had grown rather sore from riding and did not protest.

Malik slept peacefully on the bed, cuddled up against Bakura's warm body with one arm draped across this silver haired boy's chest. Though they had not attempted to repeat the fun they had enjoyed the previous night before going to sleep, it was just as satisfying emotionally for them to lie together holding one another close.

Unfortunately that would not be for long as Bakura suddenly awakened in the middle of the night with a sharp gasp. He stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes, unseeing for a number of moments, as his body lay there, completely tense and covered in a cold sweat. The incomprehensible screams of the spirits of his people still echoed in his head, lingering long after the nightmare he had awakened from ended.

With the fading of the phantom screams, the thief became more aware of the spirits' real cries, the ones that turned into a painful sort of white noise in his brain. They were louder now, more insistent, and he knew that he had ignored their restless souls for too long because of how much time he spent with Malik.

Though his head hurt to the point that Bakura was shaking slightly, the thief managed to slip away from Malik's body without disturbing his companion too much. Even though he did not want to leave his friend alone in the city, the call of his fallen people would not ease, even if temporarily, until he appeased them. He could only hope to finish his task quickly enough so that he could return before morning, and Malik would never know that he had been gone.

Bakura barely gave himself time to pause so that he could put his slippers on and collect his knife from the table beside the bed before he was going out the door. Just before he closed the door, he took the briefest of glimpses back at his lover still lying in bed, and in that instant he knew exactly what he had to do.

As the door closed, Malik lifted his head to stare in its general direction. He furrowed his eyebrows, his expression troubled, before he sat up out of bed and hurried to the window. He peered out to the streets below, looking for any sign of Bakura near their horses.

The young boy watched as the thief hurried off into the darkness. Malik made a face, as he couldn't understand what was happening. Why was Bakura leaving him? Was it somehow related to earlier, when the thief had looked so troubled at the horse merchant?

"He was having trouble sleeping..." Malik mused to himself, chewing on his lower lip. "Something's bothering him. Something important."

And there was only one way to find out _what_.

Malik nodded to himself, his expression determined. He hurried to grab his own slippers, then slipped through the door as well and raced towards where Moonlight had been tied up for the night. He mounted her quickly; grimacing as his sore rump protested the action, then quickly tore off after Bakura on horseback. He had to find the thief, to find out why he was acting so strangely.

"I didn't think he'd hide something from me..." Malik thought as he rode after Bakura, or rather in the general direction he had seen the thief go. "But he's obviously keeping some sort of secret from me. Something big, too. I have to follow-!"

At that thought, the young boy brought his horse to a stop and glanced around in bewilderment. "...I have to SEE him to follow him!" he thought, perplexed. Where had the thief gone!?

Moonlight neighed disapprovingly at being forced to stop from a full gallop, causing Malik to pat her apologetically.

"He's fast..." Malik murmured as he stroked Moonlight's neck idly, glancing around for any sign of his target. "Or maybe he's just better at moving around silently. He _is_ a thief..."

Grunting, Malik encouraged Moonlight into a light trot as he continued down along the street, glancing around for any sign of the thief as he went. In hindsight, he thought it was rather foolish of him to follow the thief without any clear direction in mind. He should've paid more attention to where Bakura had gone.

Before long Malik suddenly heard the sound of a familiar whistle piercing through the otherwise quiet night. It seemed to come from a distance away, but it was clear enough to make out which direction it was coming from.

Malik jerked up, his eyes widening. "What-?!"

Moments later the sound of hooves was heard, as if in response to the whistle. The blond had barely time to react before Moonlight reared back slightly with a whinny as the dark shape of a certain black horse charged past her at top speed.

Malik yelped in surprise and grasped Moonlight's shoulders instinctively. He blinked and looked up, eyes wide as he recognized the horse.

"Dusk!" Malik gasped, then quickly kicked Moonlight into action, chasing after the black horse as it was undoubtedly heading to only one place: wherever Bakura was.

Malik rode through the streets after Dusk before skidding to a stop, his eyes wide in disbelief. He gawked as Dusk stopped in front of a very familiar house, a house he never wanted to see again for as long as he lived.

His father's house.

As Malik had guessed, Dusk had gone to his master, who was standing just outside the place he feared to return. Shockingly Bakura was carrying a rather large and disturbingly familiar-shaped object over his shoulder, which the thief hefted onto the dark horse's back like a sack of grain. Bakura then wasted no time in leaping up onto his horse's back and riding off at top speed.

Malik stared after Bakura, momentarily stunned in to a paralyzed state. An incredible sense of déjà vu flooded through him, as he was reminded of his own kidnapping. Then, it hit him - _Bakura was kidnapping someone from his old house!_

In a panic, Malik kicked Moonlight to action, racing after Dusk as his mind raced. His mind churned over the idea that Bakura was kidnapping someone, more than likely someone he knew considering where the person was from. Why would Bakura do such a thing? Where was he taking the person?

All the questions made him feel sick as he raced after the thief in to the darkness.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter Thirteen

----

It seemed as if it were a bad omen, or that the Gods were mocking him, for that night Malik had been made to go to not one, but two of the places on Earth that he never wanted to see again. His chase for Bakura had led him across the desert to the most damned place that the blond had ever had the misfortune to know: Kuru Eruna.

Malik felt a chill enter his very bones as he approached Kuru Eruna on foot. Moonlight refused to even go near the city, instead choosing to stay near a cluster of rocks on the outskirts. She paced unhappily, neighing her distress at the situation. Malik briefly considered tying her up to prevent her from escaping but then agonized over what might happen to her if jackals attacked.

The decision was made for him, however, as Dusk had chosen that time to trot up and 'greet' the mare. Relieved that Bakura's horse was there to watch over his, the young boy hurried to the dead city while leaving the thief's horse to get to know his own.

Unfortunately such feelings of relief soon bled out of Malik's body as he went further and further into the dead town. During the day Kuru Eruna was horribly frightening, but at night it was much, much worse. The clouds that hung overhead in the sky blotted out all of the stars, so that bare streaks of moonlight that shone through were the only source of light.

Or rather, the lavender-eyed boy hoped that it was only streaks of moonlight illuminating the town. The light seemed to move in and out of the edge of his vision in a somewhat unnerving manner, but he dared not look to see if it was only his imagination.

Malik hurried through the dead streets, trying to find Bakura without looking at anything else - particularly the bleached bones covering the ground. The entire town terrified him down to his very core and he wanted to spend as little time there as possible.

Unfortunately for Malik, Bakura was nowhere in sight.

Just when it seemed like Bakura had simply disappeared into thin air, the young boy heard voices inside one of the buildings. Relieved at hearing the first sign of life since he left his horse, Malik hurried to the building and peered inside.

However, it seemed as if what the blond had thought was a building was simply the remains of one, with barely more than one wall remaining standing. This both confused and unnerved him, until he noticed the set of stairs leading downwards into darkness, which seemed to be where the faint voices were coming from.

Malik hesitated, a feeling of dread forming deep inside his stomach. However, he knew the voices could only belong to two people: Bakura and his captive. Thus, the young boy took a deep breath and ventured into the depths

The stairway led deep down into the earth, so far that the eerie moonlight could not reach the bottom. This forced the blond to step cautiously and keep one hand pressed against the wall, lest he trip and go tumbling down into the darkness. The oppressive, frightening feeling that poisoned the entire village seemed to grow stronger with each downward step. It felt as if his heart were being squeezed slowly as his senses prickled and his instincts were all but screaming at him to run back up the stairs and flee from the village now before it was too late.

After what seemed like an infinite amount of steps, Malik arrived at the bottom of the stairs in a large, dimly lit room. Timidly, the boy peered around the underground room for any sign of Bakura and his captive. He wanted to find the thief quickly, so he could leave just as quickly. The weak light trickled through the shadows, casting barely any light at all.

However, Malik didn't need much light in order to see where there were two people standing within the massive room. One sat upon an altar, which rested atop a set of steps far across the chamber, while another was writhing at the bottom of those steps awkwardly, likely due to some sort of bindings.

The lavender-eyed boy also didn't need much light in order to identify the people, for the one sitting upon the altar seemed to be surrounded by wisps of light that streaked by him, illuminating his unmistakable silver hair. The man on the floor was also instantly identifiable, for when he spoke, it was a voice that Malik would never forget.

"I _demand_that you let me go this _instant_!"

Malik felt his blood run cold as he immediately recognized the voice.

It was his father.

"Oi, old man," Bakura laughed lowly, his words barely reaching Malik's ears from across the expanse of the chamber. "How many times are you going to repeat yourself?"

"You can't treat me like this!" the old man roared indignantly. "Don't you know who I am?!"

Malik was unable to be sure due to the distance that separated him from Bakura, but he was almost certain that the thief was smiling sinisterly when the silver haired boy next spoke.

"Oh, I do," Bakura said in a voice that sent shivers up Malik's spine, and not in a good way. Slowly the thief rose to his feet, his gaze never wavering from the bound man. "I know _exactly_ who you are."

Malik crouched close to the ground and slowly made his way deeper into the temple, trying to get closer to Bakura. He had a sinking suspicion that Bakura would be angry if he knew the slave was there - likewise, he had no desire to see his father again. Still, he had many questions he wanted answered. First and foremost, what was the thief doing with his father in such a horrible place?

The young boy darted behind a pillar before creeping through the shadows to where the other two were. He wasn't sure why he didn't just shout out Bakura's name and run to him, but something inside him told him not to. Instead, he tried to get as close as he possibly could without being seen.

Neither father nor friend noticed Malik, as both were too focused upon one another. "You what?" the old man sputtered, apparently caught off-guard by what the silver-eyed boy had said. "If you know, then why have you dragged me out to this gods-forsaken place?!"

Now Malik was close enough to see for certain that his suspicions were correct; Bakura _was_ smiling, but it wasn't simply a sinister smile. There was something to the thief's expression that horribly disturbed the former slave. The feeling was further compounded when his friend spoke once more.

"Justice."

Malik felt as if his blood had turned to ice water, causing him to tremble all over. His feelings of dread increased dramatically, just from Bakura's expression.

"Justice?" the old man repeated, utterly baffled by such a statement. However, confusion quickly became overtaken by rage again. "What does this have to do with _justice_!? You broke into my home in the middle of the night, hit me over the head, kidnapped me, and dragged me out to this gods-forsaken place! How is this _justice_!?"

Bakura didn't answer the elderly man's rant; simply content for the moment to watch Malik's father's face turn red with anger. Those strange foggy wisps of light continued to streak around the room, moving around him in particular, which seemed to accent the frightening expression on his face more than the darkness did. In that light there was an unmistakable tinge of madness that Malik had never seen before reflected in Bakura's eyes.

Malik felt incredibly terrified, as Bakura's face was both horrifying and hauntingly familiar. It reminded him strongly of that one night that seemed like ages ago, when _he_ was Bakura's captive. It suddenly made him wonder what Bakura had intended to do to him in this city before changing his mind.

Did he really want to know?

"Answer me, damn you!" Malik's father shouted as he jerked, struggling as hard as he could to escape the ropes that bound him. He winced then and cringed, as he had moved so hard that he pulled a muscle in his shoulder.

A low chuckle escaped Bakura, which slowly grew louder and more crazed until he was cackling with such volume that it echoed everywhere within the massive temple.

Malik covered his ears, as if he thought he could block out the laugh and stop his fear from bubbling over.

The old man instinctively cringed, as fear started to fill him as well, in spite of his anger and confusion.

Eventually Bakura's frightening laughter died down, but that terrible demented smile of his still remained. "You have no idea, do you?" he asked, amused in some twisted sort of way. "Do you even remember your son?"

"My son?" Malik's father repeated, taken back by the question.

"Malik."

Malik tensed, eyes widening. Had Bakura seen him!?

The elderly man's eyes widened drastically at the name. "What-?" he began to sputter before trying in vain to regain his composure. "What are you talking about? I have no son!"

Malik flinched, eyes wide. He felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach. He trembled, his head spinning, and slowly slipped to his knees.

Bakura slowly tilted his head as he gazed at his captive, his mad smile becoming a slight smirk. "I had a feeling that you would deny him," he said, giving no indication that he was aware that the object of their conversation was in the room listening. "You never treated him like your son after all. He was just your slave." He paused for a moment as a peculiar expression crossed his face. "No, worse than a slave. He was your _'mistake'_." His frightening smile returned at this point. "Isn't that right?"

Malik trembled all over, covering his mouth lest he make any noises that might alert Bakura to his position. He felt so confused and sick inside.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" the abusive father protested, though his guilt was obvious in his alarmed expression. "I have no son! I've only had one child: my daughter, Isis!"

Malik felt hot tears form in his eyes, his hands moving from his mouth to cover his entire face. His own father not only disowned him but also denied he was even born?

Bakura's smile grew until his fangs could be seen, even from a distance, which made his expression rather vicious. "Is that so?" he asked before hopping off of the altar. "You never had a son who your wife gave her life to give birth to? A son who you blamed for her death and abused until he was broken?"

"Of course not!" the old man answered a bit too quickly, his tone vehement.

Malik hunched forward, trying hard to get control over himself.

"You're lying," Bakura said lowly as he moved to stand at the very top of the stairs.

"You're insane!" Malik's father shouted, trying to gain some control over the situation. "A man of my standing would never do something as horrid as that! I treat my servants and slaves well, better than most! I love my daughter dearly, and if I _did_ have a son like you say I would love him just as much! I would never do something as abhorrent as you accuse me of!"

Malik wanted to curl up and die in a corner somewhere, for all the good it would do.

"Liar," Bakura said, his voice cold, as he gazed down at Malik's so-called father as if the man were an insect. "You and I both know that you treated him like an abomination. You forced him to hide his appearance. You told him everything he touched became unclean. You made him work his fingers to the bone for you, and you used your whip on him every chance you got!" By this time his expression was contorted and filled with barely controlled rage. "You broke him! You scarred and stained him! Now that he's gone you're pretending that he was never born! Didn't you ever feel any guilt at all, even when your daughter asked what happened to her brother?!"

Malik had to admit he wanted to know the answer as well.

"Well, I, I, I..." the old man stammered, completely stunned by how much the thief knew. "How do you know all this-!?"

Bakura was silent for a number of moments, save for his heavy breathing, as he forcibly calmed himself down. One hand rose to rest against his head, gripping it tightly, as he looked at his captive with a most peculiar expression. "I think you're forgetting... _who_ is in charge here," he said rather ominously, his voice initially wavering unnervingly, as he started to descend the stairs.

The bound man started to panic as his captor approached him and tried his best to move away, though the best he could manage was to squirm like a worm. "S-st-stay back-!"

Malik peeked around the pillar to stare at Bakura and his father, tears streaming down his face. He wasn't sure what was going on anymore, or what Bakura meant, but he had a feeling he was about to find out.

"I wonder... how many times did you come at Malik with this whip?" Bakura mused as he pulled out from his robes the whip that he had stolen from Malik's father. "Probably too many times to count." He snapped the whip taunt between his hands for emphasis.

Malik instinctively cringed, ducking back behind the pillar away from the hatefully familiar tool.

"Stay back!" the old man shouted as his struggles became more frantic in response to the obvious threat Bakura was presenting him with, causing his arms and legs to ache further due to struggling against their bindings. "I'm warning you! Whatever you do to me, you'll get back tenfold! My daughter is a priestess to the Pharaoh himself! She can send an entire army after you!"

Malik peeked around the pillar again, eyes wide. What was Bakura going to do to his father?

Bakura stopped moving at the bottom of the steps. He stared at the man, and the wisps of light seemed to move faster, as if agitated. "What?"

Sensing that he had finally gotten some sort of leverage with his captor, Malik's father tried to sit up, even though his bindings made that nearly impossible. "That's right," he said with renewed confidence. "My daughter is a priestess to the Pharaoh! High priestess in fact! She was recently received that honor and one of the seven Millennium Items: the Millennium Torq! Why, she's probably already used its power to see the future and probably has already rallied the entire army to save her beloved father as we speak!" Finally he managed to get upright, feeling certain that he now had the upper hand despite his captivity. "You better let me go unharmed if you hope to receive _any_ mercy from her or the Pharaoh!"

Malik furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what his father was talking about.

Bakura was silent, as what he had just been informed of sank in. Suddenly he began to laugh, much to the surprise of both Malik and his father.

"Wh-what are you laughing at!?" the old man demanded, his face turning red with humiliation and anger. "You won't be laughing once the Pharaoh's army and his priests arrive! A wretch like you can't stand up to even one of the Millennium Items, let alone all seven! You better untie me and surrender right now!" He ground his teeth angrily as the thief didn't seem to be listening to him anymore. "_Stop laughing and let me go right now!_"

Malik trembled all over, feeling rather confused and afraid. He was afraid of Bakura as well as afraid for Bakura - what if his father was right?

"I _demand_ that you stop laughing at me now or I'll-!" the old man started to threaten.

"You'll what?" Bakura suddenly interrupted, ceasing his laughter almost as abruptly, as he leaned forward towards his captive with that frighteningly demented expression once again on his face. "What will you do to me?"

The elderly man was taken back momentarily at the suddenness, and particularly because of how the thief leaned in so close, which caused him to instinctively lean backwards. "I... My daughter will-!"

"_Die_," Bakura interrupted once again, smiling so widely that his fangs were particularly noticeable to the bound man.

Malik's eyes widened. However, before he could even react beyond the initial disbelief, it happened.

The mysterious eerie lights that illuminated the temple seemed to all at once move to converge upon the old man, swirling about him and even going through him at times. Malik's father howled in agony as he started to convulse on the ground, teeth gritted, and eyes wide, as a horrible biting cold tore at his insides.

Malik squeaked in surprise and jerked back behind the pillar, landing roughly on his rump. "YAH-!?"

Fortunately for the blond, neither his friend nor his father heard him over the sounds of his father's screams.

Bakura straightened upwards as he took a step back and after a few moments raised one hand into the air while the other held the whip loosely at his side. "Not yet, not yet," he said in a particularly pleased manner, his expression one of perverse pleasure.

Shockingly enough the wisps obeyed the thief's command and ceased their assault, instead circling Malik's father like a miniature whirlwind.

The elderly man coughed up blood as his body continued to shudder. He stared up at Bakura with wide, horrified eyes; more terrified of the thief than anything he had known before.

Malik pressed up against the pillar, trembling all over in fear. He peered around to where his father and Bakura were, his breathing ragged. His mind was warring with itself, with part of him wanting to stay hidden while another wanted to rush to his father's defense. As cruel and horrible as the man was, he was still his father - even if he denied it.

"N-no... st-top-p!" the elderly man croaked as the thief took a step towards him, his voice weak and rasping due to his screams and the difficulty he had breathing.

"It's funny," Bakura said, his voice laced with a twisted sense of amusement as he looked down at his captive. "If you had shown Malik the slightest bit of kindness, I would have let you live."

"N-no-!" Malik's father shouted, blood dribbling from his mouth. "P-pleas-se!" Franticly he tried to think of some way to save his own life. "Wh-why ar-re y-you... d-doin-ng th-his? Wh-hat-t d-do y-you w-wan-nt?"

"Justice," Bakura said simply, smiling so widely at the wounded man. "I told you that before."

"H-how-?" the abusive father tried to ask before he broke off, coughing up more blood. Every breath was agony for his damaged body, and each word he spoke multiplied that pain.

Malik trembled, breathing unevenly. His mind was shrieking at him to both rush to his father's side and to stay right where he was. The problem was, he had no idea what voice to listen to, so he inadvertently remained still.

Bakura watched the old man vomit blood onto the floor, enjoying the man's suffering immensely. "How is it justice?" he guessed, knowing that his captive likely wasn't going to be able to finish speaking. "How is it justice to torture a son for his mother's sacrifice? How is it justice for you to treat your daughter as if she's the sun and your son as if he were the darkness? How is it justice when a Pharaoh orders his priests, like your daughter, to slaughter an entire village he rules?"

The elderly man was unable to answer, as his coughing grew more labored.

Bakura's expression seemed to become notably more crazed. "You will never understand," he said as he raised the whip into the air. "You, the Pharaoh, and all of his people, don't understand the _meaning_ of justice!" With that he brought the whip down, lashing at the hated man before him.

Malik flinched back and covered his head, trembling as the sound brought back memories he really wished he could forget.

Malik's father flinched back as well with a choked cry that caused him to cough and convulse further. If he weren't already in so much agony due to the damage done inside of his body, he would have noticed that the whip had struck the floor in front of him and never even touched him.

"Now you have a taste of the fear you scarred Malik with," Bakura growled as he glared at the man before him. He then muttered quietly under his breath, and sudden the whip caught fire in his hand before he dropped it onto the floor in front of his captive. "You can take this with you to hell. The spirits of Kuru Eruna will escort you there."

With that the wisps of light immediately converged upon the elderly man, filling the temple with his screams once again.

"I would say that at least you're going to see your precious wife again, but that would be a lie," Bakura said, his smile returning and steadily growing, as he watched the spirits rend the hated man before him apart, devouring his life, and sending his blood flying in all directions. This caused quite a bit of it to splatter onto the thief due to his close proximity, but he barely noticed, and didn't care. "When you are judged Ammit is going to eat your sinful soul."

Malik cringed, covering his ears again. He gasped for breath, though it felt like his lungs weren't retaining any of it. It was as if he were hyperventilating.

The screaming seemed to go on forever and at some point Bakura began to laugh again. Eventually the screams died, as the man who made them did, so that all that remained was the thief's insane cackle echoing off the walls.

Malik gasped heavily as he stared blankly at the wall, his mind still warring with itself before finally coming to a single thought: his father was dead. His father was dead and he had done nothing to stop it. His pupils shrank in size as his eyes widened, tears still pouring down his cheeks.

Something bubbled up inside of him, from the depths of his stomach up through his chest to his throat. He felt a small noise escape him, which quickly turned in to a loud scream.

Malik held his head as he screamed, curling up in to a ball as he snapped his eyes shut.

He was lost within his screaming, driven temporarily insane by his father's death. So he didn't notice the sudden intense cold that hit him as the spirits that devoured his father came for him, now aware of his presence because of his scream. He wasn't aware that Bakura cried out for them to stop and rushed over to him as they retreated. He wasn't even aware that his friend was holding him, even shaking him slightly to try and return him to awareness.

It wasn't until he received a sharp slap to his cheek that he finally stopped screaming.

Malik jerked, his eyes snapping open as his mouth snapped shut. He stared blankly at nothing for a moment, before his eyes slowly started to focus. Almost immediately, the face of Bakura came into view from the haze.

Bakura felt relief, as his friend seemed to start coming back to himself. "Malik?" he asked, still uncertain if the blond was fully coherent yet. "Are you alright?"

Malik made an unintelligent noise, as he grew more aware of himself. He paused before staring, gawking at the red fluid - his father's blood - that coated Bakura's clothes.

Bakura had a fairly good idea of why his lover was so stunned, and he was certain that Malik had witnessed his father's death. The only thing he wasn't certain was when his friend got there or how Malik knew to find him in Kuru Eruna in the first place. Those minor details could wait until later, however, as he had to make sure to keep the blond from snapping again. "Malik!" he said firmly as he moved so that he was gazing closely into Malik's lavender eyes, hoping that by making his friend concentrate on his eyes that the other boy wouldn't focus so much on the blood. "Are you hurt?"

Malik tensed slightly, breathing heavily as he stared at Bakura. He muttered something incoherent as his body started to tremble again. He couldn't articulate any real words, as only the sounds of his father's dying screams echoed in his mind.

Bakura let out a frustrated sigh, realizing that his lover was still in shock, traumatized by what had just happened. "Come on, let's go home," he said as soothingly as he could before he reached out to take Malik into his arms.

Malik grasped Bakura's shirt as he was picked up off the ground. He made rather distressed noises as he felt the blood ooze between his fingers, a literal reminder of what was going through his mind.

"Just keep looking at my face," Bakura murmured soothingly as he carried Malik towards the doorway. "Don't think about what happened." Unfortunately he knew that it would be impossible to keep his friend from thinking about it.

Malik simply whimpered, snapping his eyes shut so he wouldn't have to see the blood or the horror of the room anymore.

Bakura sighed quietly, but said nothing, as he carried his lover up the stairs and away from the site of death.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter Fourteen

----

Malik grimaced as he slowly awoke from his fitful slumber in the bed he and Bakura shared, his head spinning and his body aching from head to toe. He felt a pressure pounding in his head, promising that he'd suffer whether awake or a sleep. The young boy sat up as his eyes slowly opened, trying to gather his bearings once more.

"What... happened?" Malik murmured, as he waited for his mind to catch up with the rest of him. When it did, it brought him the answer to his own question. Images and sounds of his father's death flooded his head, causing his skin to pale and eyes to widen.

It was at that moment that Bakura entered the room carrying a tray of delicious smelling food. He was wearing new clothes and was completely clean of any trace of blood. Immediately he was startled as he noticed that the blond was finally awake. "Malik?" he asked, his voice filled with concern, as he hurried to set the tray on the table beside the bed so that he could go to his friend's side.

Malik looked up at Bakura with his wide eyes, his body starting to tremble all over. Shakily, he reached up to grab the thief's arm for support - for reassurance that there was someone there.

Bakura sat down onto the bed and pulled Malik close, hugging his friend tightly. "Malik..." he murmured into the other boy's ear soothingly. "It's okay. I'm here."

"B-Bakura..." Malik muttered, his voice weak. He felt sick inside at the very prospect of bringing up what he had seen, but he had to know. "What happened?"

Bakura couldn't help a grimace from forming on his face. He had been dreading that question ever since he had discovered Malik in the temple and had spent the entire time that the other boy was unconscious thinking about how to explain it to his companion. He had been hoping that he would never have to reveal the darkest side of his life to Malik because of how horrifying it was. Now his secret had been discovered and he couldn't help but wonder if his friend could handle it, or if Malik would leave him because of it.

Even still, Bakura knew that Malik deserved to know the truth about what happened to his father.

"I... am sorry, Malik," he said quietly while still holding the other boy as closely as possible, hoping that apologizing would help matters. "I never meant for you to see... that..." he trailed off; uncertain of how the blond would react.

Malik didn't reply at first, clinging to Bakura. He chewed over the thief's words before lifting his head to stare at Bakura. "What were those... those things? The things that... ate my father?"

Bakura hesitated before answering, "They were the spirits of my people."

Malik blinked slowly before furrowing his eyebrows. "Spirits?"

"They can never rest until they see justice done for their deaths," Bakura explained, trying not to let his feelings over the subject leak into his tone. The last thing his friend needed to hear right now was for him ranting about the topic after being so traumatized.

"Justice?" Malik repeated, making a face. How could his father's death be called justice? Surely his father had no role in whatever crime was done to the spirits?

"I told you before that the Pharaoh ordered his priests to use my village as sacrifices, right?" Bakura asked as he thought back to the only time the subject had come up between them.

Malik nodded slowly at that, gripping Bakura's shoulders. He started to see the connection, even if he didn't want to. His sister was now a priest of the Pharaoh, which meant that his father had ties with the Pharaoh.

Bakura went silent as he tried to figure out where exactly to begin. He had never told anyone about what had happened to his village before. Not that anyone ever wanted to know before. So it took him a few moments to decide on how to continue. "Have you ever heard of the Millennium Items?"

Malik shook his head. He didn't know a lot about anything, so he had no idea what his father had been talking about when the old man mentioned his sister had gotten an item.

A quiet noise of frustration escaped Bakura before he could stop himself. It didn't really surprise him that Malik didn't know about the Millennium Items, given how sheltered the former slave had been when living with his father, but it just made more that the thief had to explain.

"The Millennium Items..." Bakura began to say then trailed off as a sour expression came to his face. So many people thought of the Millennium Items as holy items: gifts from the gods bestowed upon only the Pharaoh and his most trusted priests. Only he knew the truth about what despicable things they truly were. "...They were made using the blood of my people."

Malik tensed as his eyes widened even more, staring at Bakura. "Blood? ...L-literally?"

Bakura was silent as his gaze went someplace distant, seeing that day long ago so clearly when he had hid in the temple and witnessed the horror of that night. His silence would have probably been enough of an answer to Malik's question, but he continued anyway. "Ninety-nine."

Malik stared at Bakura in disbelief and horror, unable to think of what to say. But what could he say?

"Ninety-nine were used to make those damn things," Bakura hissed, trying hard not to lose himself in his memories. "Everyone else was unnecessary." He paused for a moment before his eyes narrowed. "No, they were a liability; a witness to just how little the Pharaoh truly cares about his people. They were slaughtered so no one would know."

"...Th-that explains the need for justice," Malik murmured. It also explained the horrible aura of the city, he thought. The feeling of death and hatred was strong, and now he knew why.

For a few moments Bakura was quiet before he closed his eyes as the events of that night once again replayed themselves in his mind's eye. "They came in the middle of the night, the Pharaoh's priests and his soldiers..." he began, wanting to tell the story only once so that he would have less questions to answer later. "We never saw it coming."

Malik moved to hug Bakura tightly, pressing his face against the thief's chest. He could feel the pain in Bakura's voice, like a knife stabbing him.

Bakura was startled momentarily by the sudden action, and his focus returned to the lavender-eyed boy in his arms. He found himself for what to say or do for a number of moments before he managed to return the hug that he had been given and held Malik close. He started to notice a pressure in his chest, and it compelled him to continue telling his only friend about the tragedy that had occured so many years ago.

"Kuru Eruna may have been one of many small villages ruled by the Pharaoh, but we weren't important to the him or the foreign invaders," he began, failing at hiding the bitterness in his voice. "We were just a small village in an isolated valley, and no one except the Pharaoh and his priests knew about how some of us could use magic and had access to ancient texts. No one every thought we were in any _real_ danger... except for my father. That's why he started building this place."

"The cave?" Malik murmured, his lips inadvertently brushing against Bakura's chest as he spoke.

A small quiver ran through Bakura's body at the feeling and though it would have brought delightfully naughty thoughts any other time, right now he just wasn't in the mood. "That's right," he said quietly with a slight nod. "But he died before he could finish it..." A he paused for a moment before a dry, almost humorless chuckle escaped him, as a thought struck him as almost irony. "I'm still not sure who found it and tried to finish his work."

Malik didn't reply, as he wasn't sure how to respond. He just waited for Bakura to continue.

The thief closed his eyes again, seeing that night so clearly, which returned him to his somber mood. "They condemned us as thieves," he continued in a low voice. "They claimed that the entire village was stealing from the Pharaoh's tombs because we were the ones who made them. Anyone who dared to fight back died. The rest were forced into the underground temple... where the priests performed the ritual..."

Malik remained silent as he processed the information. The temple must have been that dark room he had seen his father die in.

"They chose ninety-nine of my people... including my mother and father." Bakura felt his throat start to constrict, as this was the most painful part of his memory. "M-my mother... she saw me. I... I wanted to run to her, but... I could see it in her eyes. She wanted me to stay hidden." He paused for a moment and then let out a quiet chuckle that seemed to hold a note of hysteria in it. "I don't even remember why I was there that night. I just remember I was there and when I heard people shouting I hid."

Malik felt his eyes water as he tightened his grip around Bakura. He thought of his own mother, or at least what he imagined her to be like, and wondered if she would've done the same for him.

Bakura returned the hug, holding Malik tightly as he rested his cheek atop the blond's head, needing his friend's comfort while he relived that night. "The soldiers forced them to fall into a giant cauldron one at a time... If they didn't they were killed with spears, and the priests picked someone else to replace them." He paused for a moment, as he grasped for words to properly describe the horror that he had been forced to witness that robbed him of his innocence so long ago. "They were... melted down... The priests used Dark Alchemy... and their bodies _melted_ into gold... while they were still alive!"

Malik shuddered, moving even closer to Bakura. He felt cold, infinitely cold inside.

"M-my m-mother she..." Bakura's voice started to choke, as the memory created a distinct tightness in his throat and an unwelcome sting to his eyes. An expression of rage crossed his features and his grip became nearly painful on Malik's body as a dark hatred mixed with the sorrow. "The s-soldiers... they _threw her in_! She tried to escape and those bastards threw her in!" He dug his fingers into Malik's sides, as the memory made him wish with all his might to have somehow been able to kill those soldiers before they murdered his mother, instead of simply hiding and watching with fear like he had back then.

Malik yelped in surprise and pain, eyes widening as Bakura's nails cut into him. "B-Bakura-!?"

The blond's cry snapped Bakura back to reality and he immediately loosened his grip once he realized what he was doing. "Sorry... I'm sorry..." he said quietly, feeling guilty that he had accidentally hurt Malik, particularly after the trauma that he had inflicted upon his friend last night.

Malik kept his reactions carefully hidden, not daring to see if the thief cut the skin as it might make the thief feel guilty and Bakura had already been through a lot. He had also been through a lot, Malik had to admit, but he never could grasp the concept of putting other people's pain after his own.

However, despite the fact that Bakura still had more to tell of his past and felt an almost desperate need to finish his tale, at the same time he wanted to comfort Malik, and make up for the pain he had caused his companion. Gently he nudged Malik backwards to lay the blond down onto the bed and then moved to kiss the red marks that his nails had left behind on his friend's tanned skin.

Malik squeaked in surprise, then gasped at the feeling of the hot lips against his skin. He trembled slightly, as it felt rather good. Unfortunately, his body wasn't responding nearly as strongly as it normally would have, but then how could it after he witnessed his father's death?

"I'm sorry," Bakura repeated, murmuring against the blond's damaged skin. While the marks thankfully didn't seem deep enough to bleed, they were still an angry shade of red. He felt angry with himself for making them and made sure to grip the sheets rather than Malik's body so that it wouldn't happen again. He wanted to explain himself, to somehow make up for what he had done, but he knew that it was obvious that he lost himself in his past hatred.

"It's... it's fine," Malik murmured, squirming slightly underneath Bakura. "You just... you were just angry... about what happened."

Bakura nodded with a quiet grunt before he rested his cheek against Malik's chest, listening to his friend's heartbeat. "I hated them," he said lowly as he gripped the bedding tightly in each fist. "I hated all of them... including my father."

"Your father?" Malik blinked at that, surprised at such a statement. "Why did you... hate your father?"

Bakura went silent for a few moments and he closed his eyes as his voice became somewhat rough, his emotions a mixture of anger, bitterness, and sadness. "He gave up. He didn't even try to fight... he just... walked off the edge and fell right in. I don't even think he screamed. He just... let himself die."

Malik went quiet at that, as he wasn't sure how to reply, and moved his hands to stroke Bakura's hair.

"He could have at least... said something or done something instead of just letting himself be sacrificed too." Bakura tried to ignore the sting in his eyes.

"Bakura..." Malik murmured as he gently stroked Bakura's hair, his own trauma momentarily forgotten in the wake of the thief's overwhelming pain. He had never even suspected that Bakura was in so much agony over his past.

For a few moments Bakura simply lay there, breathing deeply, as he tried not to cry. Long ago he swore to himself that he would never cry again, and he wasn't about to break that promise, even if he was finally unloading the pain in his heart onto someone he could trust by reliving it. "After they had their ninety-nine sacrifices... the priests ordered the soldiers to kill everyone left alive... including each other."

Bakura paused for a few moments, attempting to concentrate on the feeling of Malik's fingers running through his hair and the blond's heartbeat. "After everyone else was dead, the priests finished their ritual and created the Millennium Items. They also summoned the tablet from the underworld... and a demon. The demon killed two of the priests, but one of them dispelled it, so the last two escaped with the Millennium Items..." A sneer appeared on his face. "That demon was part of some sort of pact they made with it for power and they dared call those things _holy_."

Malik furrowed his eyebrows. It only made sense that making anything in such an unspeakably evil way would make evil, not good. How could anyone believe the opposite?

After a few moments Bakura let out a breath of air, as he tried not to let his emotions run rampant. "After that... I was all alone... There was nothing left in the village except for me... and the dead... until animals came to scavenge them."

Malik moved to rest his chin against Bakura's head, closing his eyes as his fingers continued their idle caress. He was at a loss what to say, so all he could do was listen to Bakura and offer him silent support. What could he say? He couldn't even comprehend such a level of pain and loss.

A quiet humorless chuckle escaped Bakura as he opened his eyes again. "You know, it's kind of funny. Seeing people I know melt into gold wasn't as bad as watching the rest of their corpses slowly rotting away." He paused for a moment and his voice became somewhat faint and gained an odd undertone. "Sometimes it made me wish... that they all had been used as sacrifices... just so I wouldn't have had to watch them rot."

Malik grimaced, as he recalled the dried bones covering the village. His mind unwittingly started to paint what they might have looked like with flesh on their bones, which immediately caused his stomach to churn.

"It was when the bodies started to rot that they appeared," Bakura continued quietly, not noticing his friend's discomfort. "The spirits of my people began to haunt me. They kept calling me, louder and louder, until I could finally understand what they wanted... and I could see them."

Malik shivered, feeling cold just from hearing Bakura mention the glowing, bloodthirsty killers. He could almost feel them against his skin, causing goose bumps to form.

"They want me to avenge them, to serve justice to the Pharaoh and his people in their name." Bakura closed his eyes again, trying not to grimace. "I hear them all the time in the back of my mind. They're never silent. They only grow louder the longer I ignore them, and I can only quiet them by giving them sacrifices... like your father."

"M-my father..." Malik murmured breathlessly, Bakura's words bringing to mind how his father had died and the screams he made in the process of it. The images immediately brought to mind something else. "Was I... going to be a sacrifice?"

The question chilled Bakura to the core, causing his body to tense, and he found that he was unable to answer.

Malik opened his eyes to look at Bakura, noticing the boy's reaction. Taking the reaction as an unspoken reply, the young boy felt the sickness in his stomach increase. "W-what made you change your mind...?"

It was a number of long moments before Bakura could speak again in a quiet voice. "You were innocent."

"Innocent?" Malik repeated, very confused.

"When I capture people I usually take them to different places across the desert, just to see what they'll try and do," Bakura explained as he shifted slightly so that he could look up at his companion. "I judge them. If they try to attack or kill me or say or do anything else that shows that they're just as guilty as the Pharaoh, I sacrifice them to the spirits. If they don't then they're innocent, and I take them someplace far away from the Pharaoh's kingdom and let them go."

Malik looked at Bakura before his face started to blush as something occurred to him. "Did you... offer anyone else... what you offered me?"

"No." Bakura propped himself up onto his arms and moved so that he was looming over the blond, peering deeply into Malik's beautiful lavender eyes. "Never."

Malik's blush darkened as he stared up at Bakura, his heart skipping a beat before a soft smile crossed his face. "Good..."

Bakura couldn't help but return the smile with a small one of his own before he leaned in a little closer to his friend. He thought about the revelation that he had come to yesterday about Malik, and the feelings that the blond had generated within him. "You're the only one... who I ever wanted to be close to... even after I grew up hating everyone."

Malik leaned forward to press his forehead against Bakura's. "I'm... glad you don't hate me."

A breathy chuckle escaped Bakura as his smile grew. "I'm glad that I don't hate you either."

Malik snickered quietly at that, still playing with Bakura's hair. He wasn't sure what to say to the thief, or even how he should feel. He was confused, very deeply confused; his father had abused him and, even to the last minute, denied he even existed. So why should it hurt him that his father died? And yet, the wicked old man was - or had been - his father.

And yet by the same token, Bakura was very kind to him. The thief made him happy and warm, making him feel as though he had a right to exist and wanted to do just that with Bakura for the rest of their lives. And yet, the thief killed his father.

Which emotion was the right one to follow? Were any of them right?

In spite of this confusion, there was one thing he knew for certain.

He loved Bakura.

Bakura continued to chuckle quietly as he smiled at Malik. He felt so relieved that he didn't scare away his only friend after his secrets had been revealed, especially in such a horrifying manner. He had been worried that Malik would never forgive him for murdering his father. No matter how abusive the old man was, Malik still thought far too highly of the bastard.

Not only had his dark side been revealed, but also Bakura finally was given the chance to tell someone the truth about what happened to his people for the first time, and that someone cared about how much it hurt him. It felt as if a weight had been removed from his heart. Even though he still was obligated to the will of the spirits, which meant that he would have to kill again until they could rest in peace, this moment he shared with Malik made it somehow seem much easier to bear.

Malik leaned against Bakura as he mulled over what the thief had told him. He had never even suspected that such horrible forces troubled Bakura. He also had no idea that _they_ were the reason he'd go out to steal when he didn't need to. It also begged a rather terrible question.

Would Bakura keep doing it?

After a few moments of silence, Malik gathered the courage to speak. "Bakura? Are you going to... keep sacrificing people?"

The smile slipped away from Bakura's face as his expression grew serious. He looked away, unable to meet the other boy's gaze when Malik heard the answer. "Yes," he said quietly, his tone forcibly neutral.

Malik sat up slightly as he looked at the thief, concerned. "...Bakura... you shouldn't..."

Bakura moved back to sit down onto the bed beside the former slave, still not looking at Malik. "I have to," he said, somewhat tense. "If I don't bring justice to the spirits of my people they'll never rest in peace." He paused for a moment before muttering quietly. "And neither will I."

"B-but what makes you think this is the way to do it?" Malik pressed. "I mean, it hasn't worked yet! You've been doing this for years, right? And yet it's not getting better!"

"There isn't anything else I can do," Bakura grunted, starting to grow frustrated. It was impossible to explain to someone just how maddening it was to hear vengeful spirits constantly whispering inside of his head all of the time, with the only relief being a guilty soul's death. "Until I'm strong enough to face the Pharaoh and his priests with the Millennium Items and their Ka... I can only temporarily appease the spirits by sacrificing their people."

Malik felt at a loss. Weakly, he tried to move about so that he could see Bakura's face. "W-what if you moved away? Moved to where you can't hear them anymore?"

Bakura could feel that statement strike a chord inside of him and caused a sharp twitch through out his body. His face flushed red with sudden irrational anger as he snapped his head about to face Malik with a glare. "You expect me to _run away_? You want to _give up_ and _forget_ about them?!"

Malik jerked back instinctively, feeling a bit unnerved by the anger Bakura was showing towards him. "...N-no, but... but killing people... isn't that becoming exactly like those priests...?"

A sickly expression appeared on Bakura's face before he looked away again. He hadn't meant to snap at his friend like that, particularly after everything that had happened, and Malik wasn't really telling him anything that he hadn't already thought about before. Unfortunately the other boy hadn't spent anywhere near the amount of time that he had thinking about this, and didn't know every detail about as he did. "No, it's not," he grunted in a rough voice. "I only kill when I have to... and only guilty souls. I don't kill innocents. I don't slaughter entire villages of men, women, and children!"

"B-but..." Malik muttered, looking down at his lap. He shouldn't have opened his mouth - who cared what he thought, anyway?

Bakura closed his eyes, grimacing at how Malik's voice wavered. A heavy sigh escaped him and he felt so frustrated because of the entire situation. He needed to help his friend understand that he had no choice in this matter without making Malik feel badly about it. He took a little bit of time to think about how to best explain the situation without getting instinctively defensive over it.

Malik fidgeted and looked away, feeling a bit sick in his stomach. He supposed it was just how he was brought up - confrontation of any kind made him terrified.

Bakura glanced at Malik then looked down at his lap where he had placed his hands. "...I ran away before," he said hesitantly, cautiously admitting something that he would rather not talk about in an effort to help Malik understand why the subject set him off so easily. Hopefully it would help his friend hurt a little less.

Malik looked up at that but didn't say anything.

"After that night, after the spirits revealed themselves and I understood what they wanted from me, I ran away... and I never wanted to go back there." He paused for a moment to look at Malik out of the corner of his eye before returning his gaze to his lap once he saw that the blond was watching him. "...I... was scared. I was only eight... I didn't want to kill anyone... but they were never going to leave me in peace. Not even in death."

"T-they found you?" Malik asked, weakly.

A thin sickly smile appeared on Bakura's face, as a bit of irony came to him. "They can't leave Kuru Eruna, but they don't have to. I'm a cursed soul too... just like them. That's why I can hear them when no one else can. That's why they only listen to me... and I have no choice but to listen to them."

Malik hesitated before moving to spoon up against Bakura, seeking his warmth as well as sharing his own. He didn't know what to say or do, as the whole thing terrified him.

Bakura blinked, somewhat startled by the action, particularly after how much he had been scaring the blond. He turned to look at Malik and smiled weakly at the other boy, wanting to show that he appreciated Malik's concern for him, and then leaned back against his friend. "It feels strange..." he muttered quietly.

"What feels strange?" Malik asked, momentarily afraid that the thief meant that their closeness felt strange.

A quiet chuckle escaped Bakura as he smiled a bit more at his friend. "Having someone actually give a damn about me," he explained as he moved to brush his cheek against Malik's as his hand caressed the other.

Malik blinked, then blushed and leaned in to the caress. "Oh... well, I... I do care."

"I know," Bakura murmured, his lips brushing against the blond's cheek, before he leaned back slightly. "You're the first one to ever care about me since..." He paused momentarily and tried not to let himself get distracted by self-pity. He still had to tell Malik more about his past, so that his friend would truly understand the difficult situation that he was in.

Malik was at a loss how to respond, so he simply leaned up against the thief. He rested his head on Bakura's shoulder, closing his eyes.

The silver-eyed boy took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before he continued dredging up the terrible memories of his past. "After I ran away I ended up wandering the desert until a caravan found me. They took me to a healer who nursed me back to health... and then they told me that I had to repay my debt to them. I didn't really understand it right away back then, but I became a slave."

Bakura paused for a moment as he thought back to that time, of how he had been kept in the house of a man he had long forgotten the name of and acted as a servant. It hadn't been all that terrible, save for the fact that he had no one to care about him. That is, until the man got into debt. "...When I was nine I was sold to a priest. Not just any priest but one who possessed a Millennium Item. He liked to... collect children. Especially foreigners and little girls." He grit his teeth as this particular memory angered him and wounded his pride. "Unfortunately for me, back then people mistook me for both."

Malik looked absolutely flabbergasted at that. He leaned back and stared at Bakura's sculpted chest, then looked up at Bakura's face. His gaze shifted between the two repeatedly for a moment, and then leaned in to feel Bakura's pectorals, as if testing them.

The thief couldn't help but let out a breathy laugh because of Malik's reaction and how the blond touched his chest. "Surprising, I know," he commented, amused. "But I've spent a lot of time making myself strong like this. When I was younger for some reason people would mistake me for my sister until my mother started cutting my hair short." He paused to snort in irritation. "We might have been twins but we didn't really look that much alike. We were both albino like our father was, but she had blue eyes like our mother, and her hair was white and nowhere near as messy as mine."

Malik still looked rather incredulous at the very idea that anyone could mistake Bakura for a girl.

Bakura let out a quiet grunt, as he disliked the idea himself. "I suppose it's because I was so skinny at that time and because my hair had grown long people assumed that I was a girl. I didn't know how to turn my skin tan back then either. My mother would cast that spell on me, my sister, and my father every day so that we wouldn't burn in the sun. It wore off after a day or so, and because only foreigners have pale skin like mine, no one ever gave it a second thought.

"I... I see..." Malik muttered; feeling too overwhelmed to think of what else to say.

Bakura paused for a moment then sighed as he leaned back slightly. "After I was sold was about the time that I realized that the spirits of Kuru Eruna were still reaching out to me. Even in the Pharaoh's city I could still hear them. They haunted my dreams and even sent me visions while I was awake." He paused for a few moments before continuing in a quiet voice. "I felt like I was going insane." Again he paused, as a sudden thought struck him as ironic, causing him to chuckle quietly. "I probably am insane, aren't I?"

Malik trembled slightly as he felt very overwhelmed. He was having trouble following Bakura anymore, as it just felt like he was getting too much shoved in his head too soon. He didn't know what to say or think, especially to Bakura's back-story. On one hand, he wanted to run away and stop hearing about so much pain and suffering stacking on to his own. On the other hand, Bakura needed him.

And yet, he needed something too. He _had_ just seen his father die at the hands of his best friend. Was it really selfish to just want to run away?

Malik felt as if he was getting pummeled emotionally, and he simply wasn't ready for any of it. He wasn't being given a chance to even recover from the previous blow before the next blow knocked the wind out of him.

"I suppose that's why I finally listened to them the night that the priest tried to..." Bakura began then stopped abruptly, blinking with surprise, as he noticed that the blond had started to tremble. He ceased his story right there so that he could really pay attention Malik's expression and body language, and take in how sick the other boy looked.

The instant Bakura realized that he was the reason why Malik was trembling and that he was essentially giving his only friend more emotional baggage to weigh Malik's heart down further, which made the thief want to slap himself. However, he settled for doing it mentally rather than physically for the moment, since if he did the latter it would only cause Malik further distress. Inwardly he chastised himself very harshly, as he reminded himself that he had just killed Malik's father, and was using the blond's need for a reason why as a way to vent his own problems and excuse his behavior. It didn't matter his past, his intentions, his reasoning, or how horrible the old man had been. The bottom line was that he had murdered someone important to Malik, and a family member no less.

The more Bakura thought about it the more he wondered what he was thinking telling Malik more than just the basic facts about what his friend needed to know. It wasn't as if he _needed_ to tell anyone about all that he had suffered over the years. He had spent all this time never telling a soul, and even if no one did care to know anything about him before, it wasn't as if he type to complain about things; especially things that he couldn't change. The knowledge of what had happened to his people was his burden alone to bear, and he could not expect Malik, someone so fragile and so important to him, to handle any part of it.

Bakura let out a frustrated huff and leaned back on his arms as he glanced over at the wall so that he wouldn't have to look at how much emotional damage he had wrought to the one he loved. "Look, just, never mind about all that," he said, deciding that changing the subject as soon as possible would be the best thing now. "Just forget it. The only really important thing is that I'm sorry that you had to go through all this. If I had known that you were going to be there when I killed your father or that I would end up telling you about all this I never would have done it."

Malik stared at Bakura for a moment, and then moved to spoon up against Bakura's side. "I just..." he began, his voice breaking. He hesitated, and then swallowed roughly. "I... don't know what to do... or think... I just..."

Bakura glanced at Malik before pulling the other boy into his lap so that he could hold Malik close to comfort the person who was the most important to him in the world. "Don't worry about it," he said soothingly as he began to rub Malik's back.

Malik closed his eyes as he leaned up against Bakura, trying to get his feelings under control. Even if Bakura did tell him not to worry about it, he knew that such a thing was impossible.

Bakura closed his eyes as well as he tried to think of how he could help the other boy cope with everything that Malik had seen and heard. It felt rather viciously ironic that he had spent so much time trying to think of a way to help Malik, when all he accomplished was to make things harder for his friend. Despite being angry with himself for not being able to somehow answer Malik's questions without causing further damage, dwelling on it would do neither of them any good now.

"...Bakura?" Malik looked up at the thief, resting his chin against Bakura's chest. "...Can we just... stay like this for a while...?"

"Of course," Bakura said softly before he moved to brush his lips lightly against Malik's forehead. "We can do whatever you want."

Malik murmured his thanks, closing his eyes and tilting his head so that he could listen to Bakura's heartbeat. His mind and emotions were in turmoil, though, so he could barely hear the rhythmic sound in his aching head.

Carefully Bakura shifted so that he could lean back against the headboard of the bed, moving slowly so that he wouldn't disturb Malik as they got into a comfortable position. It was then that the obvious solution suddenly came to him about how to make his friend feel better. So he began to softly sing his mother's lullaby, as he had done many times in the past.

Malik lifted his head slightly at the first sounds of the familiar lullaby, before settling down once again. He listened quietly, feeling the song embrace his senses and comfort him. The soothing melody chased away his troubles and fears, even if it was for a moment, and gave him a sense of peace.

The pain gave way to pleasant numbness, allowing his mind to drift away.

The last thought Malik had, before he drifted asleep, was of how warm and safe he felt. Even if Bakura had killed his father, the silver-eyed boy was still the most important person in his life.

And nothing was going to change that.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter Fifteen

----

_ "Ladies and gentlemen, step right up! The greatest game in the Dark World is about to begin!"_

_ Standing alone in the middle of a dark, featureless space was a rather odd looking carnival booth. It had a red and white canvas covering a rather rickety looking wooden frame. It was oddly angled, with sharp metal pieces like large nails jutting out in random places. Many different colored lights were strung along the awning, casting light and odd shadows in various directions._

_ "I wanna play! I wanna play!" a child-like voice squealed happily. All too quickly, Malik found that it was his own voice. He hurried along through the darkness towards the booth, looking to be a child no older than ten wearing a long tan tunic that flapped and slapped against his ankles._

_ In front of the booth there was a small step ladder that allowed children to climb up and see over the counter more easily. Because of that Malik was able to see that the counter was surprisingly smooth and was made of a substance that could have been mistaken for gold, save for the fact that it was made of stone rather than metal. The walls of the booth on either side of the counter was lined with plush dolls of all types, covering nearly every inch._

_ Malik panted for breath once he had arrived, staring at the booth with wide eyes before hurrying to climb up the step ladder. "Mister, Mister, what game are we playing?"_

_ Standing in the middle of the booth was a man wearing a black trench coat that became twisted at the edges and was so dark that it made him seem almost two-dimensional. He appeared to be in his late teens and had the most unusual features to him. He had long hair reaching down to the base of his spine that was of three distinct colors, mostly black bleeding to a blood red color at the tips, with streaks of gold all through out, and messy golden bangs. His eyes were somewhat narrow, with blood red irises surrounded by a light gold color rather than white, were framed by thick, dark eyelashes, and they peered at Malik with an almost vicious amusement._

_ The man's lip curled in a twisted smile, exposing a rather pronounced fang. "Why, we're playing a Game of Darkness, what else?" he said in a dark and rumbling yet oddly pleasing voice, sounding as if such a thing were obvious._

_ "How do I play?" Malik asked curiously, blinking at the man with wide eyes._

_ The man stepped aside to reveal the back wall, which was lined with various wooden puppets that had been carved into oddly familiar people. Each one was well crafted, though they seemed battered and stained from overuse, and their expressions were lifeless and dull. "It's simple," the man practically purred as he gestured to the somewhat unnerving puppets. "You simply control as many puppets as you are able without losing your soul in the process."_

_ "What happens to the puppets?" Malik wanted to know, furrowing his eyebrows._

_ "They are simply puppets who will dance for you and say whatever you command," the man said rather smoothly. "If you like, you may even make them kill each other or themselves for your amusement. In fact you get a much better prize for each one that dies."_

_ "Really?" Malik looked dubious. "Do they die a lot?"_

_ "On the inside, yes," the man said with a strangely cheerful grin. "Would you like to play?"_

_ "Yes!" Malik smiled brightly. "What do I have to pay in order to play?"_

_ "Why, you don't have to pay me a thing right now," the man replied as he reached into his trench coat and pulled out the Millennium Rod. "You pay b after /b you play." He smiled in a rather predatory manner due to having many sharp teeth as he held the golden staff out to the young boy, shadows obscuring everything of his features but his red eyes and wicked smile._

_ Malik hesitated for a moment before taking the Millennium Rod, using both hands to grasp it tightly. "...It feels cold..."_

_ It was then that Malik suddenly recognized the people the worn down puppets were made to resemble. The magician with a mask half dangling off its scarred face, a pale bald boy with strange make up and piercing all over his body, a complementary pair of men with toothy scowls wearing half of a different mask each, a blond bum wearing a bandana with a red, white, and blue pattern with stars and stripes, and many more unnervingly familiar people._

_ They weren't the only familiar faces. Each plushie that lined the walls were an adorably deformed version of a familiar face, such as Isis._

_ However there was one person missing._

_ "Hmm?" The man tilted his head and idly rubbed his chin as he surveyed the puppets. "One of them is missing..." he said, as if he had read the blond's thoughts_

_ "Missing?" Malik turned to stare at the man, his eyes rather strangely empty. He was no longer a child, but instead a teenager, wearing his favorite outfit: the purple hoodie and black pants with an array of golden jewelry._

_ "Not again," the man growled as he glared at the end of the counter. Sitting there up against the wall was a plush doll in the shape of Bakura with an unnervingly large jagged smile painted on his face. His stubby arms were placed so that they seemed to be wrapped around a puppet that looked almost exactly like him. The only real differences between the plushie of Bakura and the puppet that looked like him, aside from being two different types of dolls, were the fact that the puppet had brown eyes instead of silver, not quite as spiky hair, and it had a hole in its chest with a broken glass heart inside._

_ "Bakura?" Malik murmured quietly, staring at the bizarre doll._

_ "That doll keeps trying to steal that puppet away," the man growled as he reached out and snatched the doll and puppet in each hand. He tossed the puppet towards the others as he looked back at Malik and smoothed out his features. "Please, pardon the interruption. Go right ahead and begin the game."_

_ "Ah, yes," Malik muttered absently, his eyes still focused on the doll. He held the Millenniumon Rod tightly in his hands, his heart thundering in his ears._

_ Surprising the plushie suddenly opened its mouth, revealing that the painted smile was actually rows of very real and very sharp teeth, and bit the man's hand. The man cried out in pain and was forced to release the doll, which leapt towards a wall and landed on one of the other plushies._

_ Malik jumped at that as he stared at the doll a bit more intently._

_ "You damn puppet," the man growled as he glared at the doll, holding his bleeding hand, which oozed something black rather than red. "Know your place!"_

_ In reply the plush doll of Bakura grabbed one of the other hanging plushies, a doll that looked similar to the dark man, save for the hair was much shorter, in an almost star shape, as well as possessed darker skin, and purple eyes. Without preamble he was somehow able to tear the other plushie's head off easily, sending blood red stuffing flying around everywhere._

_ "The doll... he killed the puppet..." Malik said, as if he was completely unaware of how he was stating the obvious._

_ Still grinning dementedly, the Bakura doll ripped more of the other plushie apart and then placed the remains of the head on top of his own, much like a hat. He then turned to look at Malik, as if showing off what he had done._

_ "A hat...?" Malik murmured, still staring at the doll. "Why did it do that?"_

_ "It is an insolent thing that forgets that it's nothing but a puppet!" the man snarled, growing rather enraged. He lashed out a hand to try and snatch the plushie of Bakura, but the doll was too quick for him and hopped over him. The Bakura plushie disappeared when he fell to the floor and oddly enough everything beneath the level of the counter was too dark to see, so there was no way for Malik to tell where it had gone._

_ Malik jumped backwards, startled by the plushie. He yelped as he fell off the ladder and landed roughly on his rump._

_ All of a sudden the booth started to shake violently and then collapsed onto itself, as well as the man, the puppets, and the dolls._

_ "Ah-?!" Malik gawked as the booth collapsed._

_ All was still for a long number of moments as the booth lay in ruins. However after a minute or two the plush doll of Bakura emerged from beneath some of the canvas, dragging the puppet with the broken heart with him. He walked over to Malik and sat down before the blond with that vicious painted grin still on his face as he held the puppet close once more. He seemed to be rather pleased with what he had done, even if his expression never changed._

_ "You... seem happy..." Malik was at a loss as to what to say._

_ The plushie wasn't given the chance to react even if it was going to, for suddenly a large clawed hand that appeared to be made up of darkness lashed out from beneath the wreckage of the booth to snatch it up. Without hesitation the claw squeezed with enough force to cause the Bakura doll to practically explode with blood red stuffing, which flew in every direction._

_ Malik stared in horror as the red stuffing flew through the air in all directions. A quiver ran up his spine before let out a loud shriek, covering his face as if to hide from the sight._

_ Something laughed wickedly in a voice that rumbled like distant thunder. Even without seeing somehow Malik could tell that it was enjoying his misery._

_ Just then he felt a small tug on his pant leg._

_ Malik trembled, at first wanting to ignore the tugging. However, he found himself compelled to look, moving his fingers slightly so that he could peek through them._

_ The puppet with a broken heart who looked so similar to Bakura peered up at Malik, standing up by itself. One small hand clutched the blond's pant leg, using its hold on the cloth to support some of its weight. The other hand held the small broken glass heart it had removed from its chest and then lifted the fragile thing up for Malik to see._

_ "I know it's broken, and not worth much, but can you use this to bring him back?" the puppet asked in a soft voice that was barely heard over the dark laughter._

_ "I... I'm trying, but I don't know how!" Malik protested as he stared at the plushie. "I don't... I don't know what do to!"_

_ Suddenly the puppet became limp once more, as if those words caused it to lose what little strength it had. It let go of the blond's pants and fell to the dark space that made up the ground._

_ Its broken heart slipped from its hand and shattered against the darkness._

----

"Ha-!" Malik jerked up with a gasp, his eyes wide and sweat trickling down his skin. He trembled, clinging tightly to the blanket as he panted. After a few moments of gasping, then boy slowly reached a hand up to brush back his bangs. "...A nightmare... again..."

Nightmares had become a common occurrence in Malik's life. Ever since his father died and he learned the truth about Bakura's past, he had been plagued with nightmares. Because of how he was now haunted by images of death, angry ghosts, and other types of carnage, he never seemed to get any comfort in sleep unless Bakura was singing that lullaby to chase away the horrors.

As if summoned by those thoughts Bakura entered the room carrying a tray of hot food. He had recently made it a habit to try and bring Malik breakfast in bed before the blond woke up. Unfortunately he wasn't always quick enough to accomplish that goal.

At the sight of Malik awake, breathing heavily, covered in sweat, and staring at the wall with a haunted look in his eyes, Bakura let out a quiet sigh.

"Good morning, Malik," the silver eyed boy said as he moved to sit down on the bed beside his friend. "Hungry?" He knew that it was pointless to ask if Malik had another nightmare, as he could see the answer in his love's haunted lavender eyes. It was best instead to get Malik's mind off of it and on to something more pleasant.

Malik turned to stare at Bakura for a moment, before finally lowering his gaze to the plate. "...Breakfast...?"

"Right," Bakura replied with a faint smile as he presented the food. There was a plate of sliced fruit, a bowl of stew, and a cup filled with water. "We don't have anymore milk. We should probably go back to the city soon."

Malik accepted the tray, resting it on his lap carefully. He instantly looked up at the mention of the city; his mind immediately wondering if that meant Bakura intended to kill _another_ sacrifice as well.

Bakura looked back at Malik and could guess what his friend was thinking because of the expression on Malik's face. "Don't worry," he said soothingly and gave the other boy a crooked smile. "I will make sure you won't be left alone there again."

"Really?" Malik felt a flood of relief at the thief's words. A smile made its way on his face as he seemed content to accept that Bakura would not leave him, especially not to take the lives of other people.

Bakura's smile widened slightly and he felt some relief of his own at seeing his companion relax. "You better start eating before the food gets cold," he pointed out. He also wanted Malik to eat something before he brought up something he had been mulling over for a while.

Malik blinked as he was reminded of the food and proceeded to do as he was told, eating the delicious meal that the thief had prepared for him.

"Good?" Bakura asked with a rueful grin as he watched his friend eat, his head cocked slightly to the side.

Malik nodded his head, making a happy noise through a mouth full of food. He took the cup of water and drank it thirstily before glancing at Bakura again. "Yeah!"

After waiting for about a minute Bakura decided to bring up the subject he had been hesitant to mention. "Malik... do you ever think about visiting your sister?"

Malik stared at Bakura for a moment, his expression blank as if he hadn't heard correctly. However, after that moment, he realized that he _must_ have and made a face. "Sometimes...?"

"Would you like to?" Bakura asked as he looked at the blond intently, his expression carefully neutral. This decision had to be completely made by Malik, and if he gave away how conflicted the idea of delivering his friend into the arms of the enemy made him feel it would make Malik uncertain and concerned; not to mention suspicious.

"...Is something wrong?" Malik asked, feeling rather nervous. His bad feelings increased as a thought came to him. "A-are you going to leave me there?"

Such a question caused Bakura to jerk slightly with surprise and blink a few times. "What?" He shook his head quickly and held up his hands. "No, no, nothing like that. I just meant would you like to _visit_ her for a little while?"

"...But you won't _leave_ me there, right?" Malik eyed the thief suspiciously. Bakura wasn't considering him a liability now that he knew of all of the terrible things the thief did and intended to get rid of him, did he? "You will come back for me?"

Bakura regarded Malik for a moment then leaned over to kiss his love soundly instead of answering with words.

Malik blushed at the kiss, staring at Bakura before his expression softened. He supposed he should feel foolish for thinking such things. "...Oh... okay..."

Lightly Bakura pressed his forehead against the blond's and smiled ruefully at Malik. "Trust me, I would _never_ abandon you in the Pharaoh's palace, no matter what happens," he said in as an assuring manner as he could manage, though he couldn't help but practically spit the word 'Pharaoh'.

"...Then why would you want me to go there at all?" Malik found himself asking.

Even though Bakura had been expecting that Malik might ask him that question he still found himself going silent for a brief period of time to consider how exactly to phrase his answer. "...Because the last living relative you have is there," he finally said, his voice somewhat subdued.

Malik went quiet at that before lowering his head. "...Oh."

"As long as you don't mention me or anything about Kuru Eruna you should be safe there," Bakura explained as he crawled around on the soft sheets to sit beside his companion. His eyes narrowed, as a suspicious thought came to him. "Unless you think your sister is anything like your father was." He couldn't help but recall how highly Malik had praised the cruel old man who was unfit to be such a wonderful boy's father. The thief also couldn't afford to underestimate the terrible true nature of the Pharaoh and priests, particularly when it was Malik's safety that was on the line.

"N-no," Malik shook his head before making a face. "...My sister was always kind to me."

"Do you think she would let anyone hurt you if you visited her at the palace?" Bakura pressed as he watched the other boy's expression carefully. If Isis was ignorant enough to not notice how much Malik suffered at the hand of their father then she might ignore any abuse her brother could be exposed to while visiting her.

"No, I don't believe so," Malik replied, honestly. "She was always so kind and worried about me. She'd get into arguments with my father a lot."

That fact surprised Bakura a little. "What about?" he asked curiously as he tilted his head slightly.

"...Me," Malik murmured. "Isis and my father would argue a lot about me. I'm not exactly sure what, but father started... trying to make it so she'd have less to argue with him about by having me sleep in a room when she visited. And I couldn't wear the veil when she was around."

Bakura was genuinely surprised about that. It was hard for him to picture a priest of the Pharaoh as anything but cruel, even if he knew logically that Isis likely had to have been at least an exception to the rule when it came to Malik. The blond was so gentle and kind it was hard not to love him, and anyone who had even the slightest bit of intelligence would see that Malik was a blessing to have around.

"...So she tried to make your life better," the silver haired boy said after a number of moments. In a way he felt a small pang of jealousy, but he shook it off as being irrational. _He_ was Malik's protector now, not Isis or anyone else.

"It... upset father," Malik paused before looking away. "...A lot."

Bakura couldn't help but smirk at that. "Good."

Malik blinked at Bakura, his expression confused.

"Your father was a bastard, Malik," Bakura replied simply, as if that explained it all. He then slipped his arm around the blond's waist and pulled Malik close to him.

Malik squeaked as he was pulled close and blinked a few times before making a face. He hesitated before resting his head against the thief's chest. "...Maybe..."

Gently Bakura began to run his fingers through his friend's golden tresses. "He was, so don't give him another thought."

"...What should I do if my sister asks?" Malik murmured quietly.

Bakura paused to give that question some consideration. He knew that some sort of explanation was necessary to give Isis for Malik's disappearance. "...Tell her a thief kidnapped you, but you were saved by a mysterious handsome stranger who nursed you back to health." He gave a rather rueful grin.

Malik blushed at that, as it was fairly truthful. It just failed to mention that the stranger and the thief were the same person. "A-alright."

"You could also say that this mysterious benefactor was passing by the city on business and encouraged you to see your sister," Bakura continued, grinning a little bit wider.

Malik was tempted to ask what sort of 'business', but held his tongue. He wasn't sure how the thief would react to it, and he didn't want to start any trouble.

"So hurry up and eat." Bakura reached out to suddenly poke the blond's nose. "The sooner you finish the sooner we can leave and you can see your sister."

"Ah-!" Malik blushed before nodding. "Y-yes, yes of course." The young blond quickly resumed eating his food. While he was very much excited about seeing his sister again, he had to question the thief's motives. It made him feel guilty, as he knew he should trust Bakura. However, he also knew that Bakura hadn't said he would _stop_ what he was doing. But what could Malik do? He had no say over what Bakura did.

Unfortunately Malik was right to suspect Bakura. Though the silver haired boy did well to hide his feelings behind a smile, inside he was enraged at the very idea of depositing his beloved Malik right into the Pharaoh's grasp. The problem was that they were in a very poor situation. There was no way Malik would allow Bakura to leave on his own, especially not after the death of that horrible old man who denounced Malik as a son to the bitter end.

After everything that had happened, particularly because of how much Malik suffered under the emotional weight of that incident, coupled the knowledge of the fate of Kuru Eruna, the spirits, and Bakura, the thief fleetingly wondered if Malik would be better off with Isis at the palace.

That thought was immediately crushed after it was conceived. There was nothing on Heaven or Earth that was going to make Bakura give Malik up. He would rather die than see that happen. Malik meant so much to him that the thought of living without his friend was too difficult to even consider. The fact that Bakura had briefly considered simply _giving_ his most precious treasure to one of the High Priests, even if it was Malik's beloved sister, was enough to enrage him. There was no way the thief could trust _any_ of the Pharaoh's priests, for they _all_ were corrupt murderers. Abandoning Malik to that den of jackals would have been the worst sin Bakura could ever commit.

Yet the unfortunate truth was that Malik missed his sister, and after the loss of his father, he likely would think of her more often and would eventually ask to visit her. At least with Bakura being the one to bring it up first it wouldn't give Malik a reason to feel guilty for some silly reason like he believed it to be something akin to betrayal towards his former master.

There were also the spirits of Kuru Eruna to consider. Bakura had tried to put off another sacrifice after what horrible things had happened as a result of last time, but he knew that he could only delay so long before their cries became maddening. No matter what he couldn't allow Malik to be exposed to them a second time, and his friend was undoubtedly far too emotionally unstable right now to be left alone.

As much as the idea filled Bakura with unrivaled bitterness, he knew that the only thing he could do right now that would be best for Malik would be to take the traumatized blond to the palace. If Isis was as good a sister as Malik believed her to be, then she would protect him from the black hearted Pharaoh, even if for a short time. No matter how kind and loving Malik believed his sister to be, Bakura had no doubts that eventually succumb to the inherent evil that the Millennium Items and the Pharaoh possessed, becoming just as horrible as the rest of the Pharaoh's people. All he could do was hope that she would remain as Malik remembered her to be long enough for him take the necessary sacrifice and appease the spirits before coming back for his friend.

If it came down to it Bakura knew he wouldn't hesitate risking exposing himself to the wrath of the Pharaoh and priests to rescue Malik. He knew that he wasn't yet powerful enough to face them on his own, let alone the powerful Ka that the priests could summon, as all he had to face them with were his body and mind. He may have known some magic, but with no one to teach him, he had little more ability than lighting small fires and coloring his skin. He was no match for the dark powers of the Millennium Items as he was now, in spite of spending years plotting vengeance against them.

Despite of all the reasons to not allow Malik to go and all the danger that doing so would expose the both of them to Bakura knew that it was inevitable. Malik was going to need to see his sister eventually. She was his only family left, and Bakura knew the pain one suffered losing family all too well. All the thief could do was hope that things would somehow turn out alright somehow.

Bakura hated having to rely on hope, because he always found it too easily crushed.

----

"...Do I really need to wear all this?"

Malik grimaced as he tugged at his shirt, feeling particularly overdressed. He wore finely stitched clothes more suited for royalty rather than a boy who used to be a slave. The fabric of his shirt, sarong, and robes were of different yet vibrant shades of purple that complemented with the other pieces and intricate designs stitched into the edges in gold. He also wore golden jewelry to match; golden bands adorned his arms, ankles, and neck, as well as a few rings, and even his slippers had some gold on them. He imagined that Bakura would have made him wear earrings as well if his ears were pierced.

"Trust me, unless you look like you have money or status the guards won't let you get within five steps of the gate," Bakura said as he looked Malik over before casting a poisonous glare towards the palace. They were just far enough away that he could watch his friend go inside without being singled out from the crowd of townspeople by the guards, yet close enough that he could reach Malik should the blond have trouble getting into the palace.

"Oh..." Malik glanced nervously towards the palace. "What if they don't let me in?"

"Then we can either try sneaking in or think of something else," Bakura replied before turning to look back at his friend. His expression softened and he smiled a little, wanting to reassure Malik. "If we can't get you in then we will just go home after I finish buying our supplies, alright?"

Malik made a face at that before nodding, allowing himself to be at least somewhat soothed by what the thief was saying. While it would have been upsetting if his sister turned him away, Bakura would protect him no matter what happened.

"Don't worry, I'm going to be watching you the entire time from here," Bakura said with a confident grin. He reached out to gently pat Malik on the back before nudging the blond forward to get him going, knowing that Malik would likely hesitate the entire day if given half the chance. "So go on."

Malik stumbled slightly before he started to walk, trying to gather his courage as he headed towards the gate. He was rather afraid of the guards, after learning what they were capable of from Bakura. What if they decided to use their spears on him? But surely Bakura would rescue him in time.

The silver-eyed boy watched Malik head towards the gate with a critical gaze. Despite how much he assured the blond that everything would be fine he couldn't feel assured that Malik would get past the guards unmolested. Logically he knew the guards likely wouldn't do anything to Malik out in broad daylight where anyone could see, as that would possibly get them in trouble due to the illusion of money and status the golden haired boy projected, but Bakura couldn't underestimate the level of corruption that existed within the kingdom.

Malik tried his best not to show how terrified he was as he stepped towards the guards, looking at them with wide eyes for a moment. The guards stopped to stare at him, as he stared right back. After an awkward moment, he straightened up. "...I wish to see my sister, High Priestess Isis," he said, keeping his voice loud and commanding like he had rehearsed when Bakura instructed him on that to say. "Tell her that her brother Malik has come."

The guards stared at Malik before giving each other a somewhat dubious look. "I will go inform the High Priestess Isis of your arrival," one of the guards replied. The gates were then opened just enough for him to enter but closed immediately once he was behind them.

Malik was glued to his position, his heart racing. He had noticed the dubious expression and couldn't help but feel afraid. What if she turned him away? Would the guards think he was a liar and attack him?

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the blond anxiously waited to find out what was to become of him. Likewise Bakura was waiting just as anxiously, growing more on edge the longer it took to receive word from Isis. The urge he had to abort the plan and take Malik as far away from the palace as quickly possible was becoming more and more tempting to the thief with each passing minute. It took a great deal of will power for Bakura to keep his distance and simply watch until he saw some sign that it was necessary for him to intervene.

Finally the gates opened up once more, revealing not only the guard, but none other than the High Priestess Isis herself in all her finery. She wore a rather lovely off-white dress adorned with golden jewelry, and a most peculiar golden charm around her neck with the symbol of an eye in the middle.

Malik felt a flood of relief at the sight of his sister, relief that became quite visible in his expression. "Isis!"

Isis stared at Malik, her eyes widening in shock at the sight of her younger brother. She was slightly pale and her expression was as if she had seen a ghost. "...Malik..." she breathed as she took shaky steps towards the golden haired boy. "Is it... is it really you?"

"Ah?" Malik was rather startled by the question, blinking repeatedly before furrowing his eyebrows and tilting his head to the side. "Yes... why wouldn't it be?"

"Because... I thought you were dead," Isis whispered, her voice wavering, as tears started to come to her eyes. She quickly became so overcome with emotion that she practically lunged at her little brother in order to hug him tightly.

Malik jumped as he was suddenly hugged, his eyes widening. He certainly hadn't expected such a reaction to seeing him, or such a statement on top of it. He hesitated for a moment before tentatively wrapping his arms around Isis. "Dead...?" he asked softly.

Isis struggled to get her emotions under control, though she couldn't help the tears that trickled down her face. "F-father said that you... that you had been _murdered_ by a thief."

Malik tried hard not to flinch at those words. His father really had written him off that easily? But this was no time to reflect on that, as his mind quickly shoved aside such things in favor of remembering the story Bakura told him to say. "Well... more like kidnapped by a thief."

"Kidnapped?" Isis repeated before straightening up and drying her eyes with the back of her hand so she could look at her younger brother's face.

Malik nodded at that. "A thief broke in to the house and took the valuables. He also kidnapped me because I had seen his face."

Isis looked aghast. "That's awful! How in the world did you escape?"

"I was rescued," Malik replied. He felt guilty as it was deceiving his sister, but how could he explain the thief and his rescuer were the same person? "A traveler... he killed the thief and rescued me."

"Thank the gods," Isis sighed in relief. "Who is this man? I would like to meet him and personally give my thanks to him for saving you."

"He dropped me off on the way to get supplies," Malik replied, thankful for at least something truthful. "I'd like to spend some time with you... ah, that is, if you don't mind?"

"Of course not, Malik," Isis answered with a bright and cheerful smile on her face. "You don't know how much I've missed you. You can feel free to spend as much time here with me as you like."

"That'd be wonderful!" Malik smiled a bit more brightly.

Bakura watched the touching reunion between siblings with the bitter taste in his mouth. He crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the pair to enter the palace. He felt anxious still about allowing Malik to go into such a hated place so easily, but he would at least trust Isis enough to protect her little brother from harm for a short time. If she didn't he would make her pay dearly.

Bakura tried to deny that a good portion of his anxious and agitated feelings were due to jealousy, but he had to acknowledge that he disliked the idea of sharing Malik with anyone, even if that person was his friend's beloved sister. Malik spoke so highly of Isis, even more so than the hated man who was their father. She certainly seemed affectionate towards her little brother, unlike the bastard who denied Malik as a son.

Perhaps Isis hadn't been completely corrupted yet by the Millennium Item Bakura noticed that she was wearing, or by the company she kept. It was fortunate for Malik to have at least some time with his sister before she became tainted like all the others. Perhaps if Bakura destroyed the Millennium Items quickly enough or at least planned a way to avoid targeting Isis, Malik would be able to keep his sister. It would be rather hard on him if Bakura had to kill her as well.

For a fleeting moment Bakura remembered the last time he saw his own sister. As he thought of her, he was surprised to find himself a little jealous of _Malik_. He would never see his sister again, but Isis was still alive, so Malik could be with her, at least until the thief came back for him.

Though it would have been nice for Bakura to be able to say that he allowed Malik this visit for purely selfless reasons, but unfortunately that was far from the truth. The spirits had grown restless once again, but this time the thief was going to make sure that Malik would not get involved again, even if it meant taking such steps.

The moment the gates closed behind Isis and Malik, Bakura immediately left for the market. For now he would buy the supplies they needed, but tonight the Thief King would take another sacrifice.

----

"Isis... this place is so huge... I can't believe you actually live and work here!"

Isis let out a soft giggle that she hid behind her hand. She felt giddy from having her younger brother back and being able to spend time with him. "It _is_ impressive, isn't it?" she replied as they walked past the garden. "I was overwhelmed too the first time I came here."

"It really is a palace!" Malik replied breathlessly, his eyes as wide as saucers as he stared around the grounds with child-like amazement. He could see why his father had been so proud of Isis, if she was able to work and live in such a place!

Isis smiled, as Malik's excitement and enthusiasm was quite infectious. "It's a wonderful place to live," she said cheerfully. "However, that means that we who live in the palace must work that much harder to be worthy of all of this."

"Wow, so you live here with other people?" Malik asked, then immediately realized how stupid the question was. His face turned red as he silently chided himself, as naturally _The Pharaoh_ would be at his own palace!

Such a question caused another giggle to escape Isis in spite herself. "Yes, many other people in fact," she replied. "I've lived here since I was in training to be a priestess, remember?"

"Y-yes, I remember," Malik replied, his face still a bright crimson. After all it had been the reason why she had only been able to briefly visit him and their father for many years.

"The palace is so large because many people live here," Isis explained as she gave her brother a gentle smile. "The Pharaoh, his family, many priests, including the six High Priests, noblemen, guards, servants, and many more along with their families all live and work here with the single goal to help maintain the entire kingdom and make it a beautiful and peaceful place."

"Really?" Malik was genuinely surprised. It was nothing like Bakura had told him about the palace, which brought out some real concerns. Isis would not lie to him, but neither would Bakura. How could they both be telling the truth?

"Of course," Isis replied with a nod. "Only those who are willing to commit their lives to ensure the peace and well being of the kingdom and its people live here. Nearly everyone who lives within the palace would give their lives if necessary in order to make sure of that."

"So only good people can live at the palace?" Malik asked, staring at his sister. Isis' words were confusing him even more than he already had been. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that either Isis was simply unaware that the other people at the palace _were_ capable of true evil or someone had lied to Bakura. And since Bakura had seen the evil with his own eyes, that pointed to Isis being wrong.

Isis nodded once again. "Of course. We make certain not to allow anyone with an evil heart enter the palace unless they are to be tried by the Millennium Items and the Pharaoh himself." She idly ran her fingers along the Millennium Torq that rested around her neck. "I've participated in such judgments myself. My Millennium Torq has the ability to see the future, so I can see when something terrible is about to happen and warn others of the danger before it's too late."

"...Does it show you things that have _already_ happened?" Malik wanted to know. Perhaps that was how Isis didn't know of Bakura's family?

Isis shook her head. "Unfortunately, no. None of the Millennium Items have that ability." She looked a little bit sadly at her younger brother. "If it did I would have used it to find out what happened to you the night father said that you died."

"I... see..." Malik murmured quietly. So that _was_ why she had no knowledge of Bakura's family's fate. It also meant that the priests couldn't know about the evil in the palace, because it was there before they had entered it.

"I'm sure father will be happy to know that you are alive and well, Malik," Isis said with a small smile.

"...Really? I'd think that he would be glad to have gotten rid of me." Malik found himself saying without thinking. He immediately paused and quickly looked away.

Isis stopped in her tracks and turned to look at her younger brother with obvious surprise. She had never heard him speak ill of their father before and it came as quite a shock.

"...I'm sorry," came Malik's rather quiet apology.

"No, no, it's alright, Malik, you don't have to be sorry," Isis said once she recovered from her shock. "I was just... very surprised to hear you say that about father. Normally _you_ are the one defending him whenever I get angry with him."

"...Well, I just..." Malik hesitated a moment before glancing at Isis. "...I'm just starting to consider the possibility that maybe I didn't... deserve it."

Again Isis found herself quite surprised at how much her brother had changed. "...Good," she said after a moment with a slight nod of her head. "Because you _didn't_ deserve it. Not _any_ of it. If I had been in a position to bring you with me to the palace sooner I would have. I love father, but the way he treats you is inexcusable."

Malik went quiet a moment, shifting uncomfortably due to the topic, both because they were talking about a very sensitive subject, and because they were speaking of their father in the present tense, as if he were still alive. He couldn't very well tell her what had happened to him, unfortunately. "...I guess so."

Isis sighed and shook her head before smiling gently at the blond. "But we shouldn't dwell on this. Tell me more about this man you live with, Malik, and what you've been doing all this time."

"Well, I've... been living with the one who rescued me," Malik began, scratching the back of his head as he mulled over exactly how to phrase things without outright lying to his sister. "He's been taking care of me. He had decided not to take me back to father's place... I guess he didn't like how I had been dressed and raised to speak."

"He sounds like a kind man." Isis smiled a little more. "I would like to meet him sometime and thank him properly for everything he's done for you."

Malik stared at Isis as his mind locked up. There was no way to answer the question properly - Bakura would never want to meet Isis, and saying such a thing to Isis would cause an unbelievable amount of awkwardness.

Thankfully, Malik was spared from having to answer the question.

"Prince? _PRINCE!_"

Malik turned to stare as a young boy who looked to be around his age, maybe slightly younger, charged past with scowl on his face. His bright blue eyes glared about angrily as he hurried, his shoulder length brown hair bouncing about. He was rather muscular, which was easily noticed thanks to the simple white tunic he wore, along with matching white sandals.

Isis' attention was immediately drawn to the blue-eyed youth. "Has Prince Atemu gone missing again, Seto?" she asked, as if such an occurrence was common, though she seemed somewhat concerned.

The young boy grunted, turning to look at Isis. "He's hiding from me again, High Priestess!"

"Prince Atemu must be trying to avoid his lessons again," Isis guessed and couldn't help but let out a somewhat exasperated sigh. "Do you need help finding him, Seto?"

Seto nodded at that, his expression still furious. "I've been looking everywhere and I still can't find him!"

Malik blinked repeatedly at that, staring at Seto and Isis. At that moment, he heard a slight rustling. Instinctively, he whipped around to stare behind him only to be confused when he found nothing - nothing except a large round clay vase. The young boy blinked and rubbed the back of his head as he stared at the vase.

Isis returned the nod before she turned to Malik. "Malik, do you mind waiting here while I help Seto find the prince?" she asked, obviously hesitant to leave her brother after being apart for so long. She was about to say more when she noticed that his attention was focused elsewhere. "Brother?"

Malik didn't reply as he moved towards the vase, unable to help it. He just couldn't shake the feeling that something was there. Vases couldn't move on their own! With that in mind, the young boy leaned over to peer down into the vase.

...Only to find a large pair of violet eyes staring right back at him.

Malik's eyes bugged out as he stared before jerking back with a scream, stumbling backwards. "P-PERSON-!"

"_PRINCE_!" Seto snarled as he lunged forward at the vase, grasping the edges and glaring down inside.

A childish giggle emerged from the vase before a young boy with the most striking hair Malik had ever seen popped his head out of the vase. His hair was incredibly spiky and nearly all black with tips that varied from red to purple, with golden streaks all through out the front. There were even golden bangs that could have been initially mistaken as being part of the rather ornate gold crown the boy wore, save for the fact that he brushed them away from his face. "It took you a while to find me this time, Seto!" the young prince said rather cheerfully, acting as if he had been simply playing a game rather than avoiding lessons and upsetting the blue-eyed boy.

"Well, I found you!" Seto growled, clearly irritated.

"Yes, but _he_ found me first," Atemu retorted smugly, as if such a difference somehow made him the victor in the game he had been playing, and pointed at Malik for emphasis.

"Ah?" Malik blinked at that, staring at the young boy that the others were calling 'prince'.

"I don't care!" Seto retorted. "You have lessons!"

"I know," Atemu replied as he climbed out of the vase, revealing that he was dressed in rather ornate clothes and jewelry befitting a prince, yet it was somewhat battered due to obvious wear and tear that came from playing often.

"Prince Atemu, you know that you shouldn't make Seto have to hunt for you every day," Isis chided gently as she gave the young prince a reproachful look. "You make him and everyone else worry when you disappear like this."

"But what's the point of playing hide and seek if I don't _hide_ and Seto doesn't _seek_ me?" Atemu asked as he brushed off some of the dust from his arms that came from inside the pot.

"And how many times do I have to tell you that I don't _want_ to play!?" Seto demanded.

"But you do anyway!" Atemu cheekily retorted before he started to laugh.

Seto stared at Atemu before his cheeks tinted slightly red, as it was undoubtedly true.

"Come on, Seto, let's get going!" Atemu said cheerfully before suddenly darting off.

"Ah-!" Seto started, before scowling and chasing after the prince. "OI!"

"Um," Malik muttered, as he couldn't think of what to say after he saw the two boys run off.

Isis couldn't help but let out a small laugh in spite of herself as she shook her head slightly. "Those two are always like that," she explained as she looked to her brother. "That was Prince Atemu and Seto, who is a priest in training like I used to be. Out of all those who serve here, Prince Atemu chose Seto to be his personal servant and he constantly wishes to play games with Seto, as well as the other children who live here. He even plays games with the adults at times."

"_HE_ was the _pharaoh_!?" Malik stared at his sister, absolutely stunned.

Isis was momentarily startled by her brother's outburst before letting out a soft laugh. "Oh, no, not yet," she explained, a bit amused by Malik's expression. "Atemu is only eight years old. He won't be ready to become pharaoh for many years yet. The pharaoh is his father, Pharaoh Akunamukanon."

"O-oh..." Malik murmured as he stared after Atemu before turning to Isis. "...He's... he's a kid like me!"

"Is it that surprising?" Isis asked, barely holding back a giggle, as she found herself amused by her brother's somewhat comedic reaction to meeting the young prince.

"Well, I... I kind of expected..." Malik hesitated before blushing darkly. "I kind of expected... a Pharaoh!"

"Even pharaohs start out as little boys too, little brother," Isis replied with a gentle smile on her face.

"I guess so...!" Malik still looked rather bewildered.

Isis continued to smile gently at her younger brother. "When Prince Atemu has grown up and fully learned how to properly rule over this country, he will inherit the Millennium Pendant and take his rightful place as Pharaoh Atemu. Until then he is allowed to enjoy his childhood and grow up happily playing games like all the other children in this kingdom."

Malik didn't reply to that, as he really wasn't sure what to say given his own childhood.

A somewhat awkward silence hung between them for a number of moments. Isis' smile waned slightly before brightening once more. "Would you like to see more of the palace, Malik?" she asked, deciding to change the subject.

Malik looked up at that before smiling at his sister. "Yes, please!"

There was no further talk of childhood or things that happened in the past after that as the two formerly separated siblings decided to simply enjoy the fact that they had now been reunited.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter Sixteen

----

"...Unfortunately for him that was then the entire pot of ink fell onto his head!"

Malik giggled at that, smiling brightly as he walked alongside Isis. "I know I shouldn't be laughing but...!"

The High Priestess let out a soft giggle of her own as she returned the smile. "Oh, it's alright," she said in a rather jovial tone. "Everyone had a good laugh at the time it happened. Even Mahado couldn't help it. It was a rather amusing series of unusual circumstances after all."

"That's good." Malik felt a bit relieved at that, as he simply couldn't stop giggling.

Isis let out another giggle of her own, very obviously delighted at being in the company of her younger brother. They had spent virtually the entire day together, talking, laughing, and generally enjoying their time together. They had been so caught up in wandering the palace and conversing that they nearly lost track of time. Now, after the sun had long since set, the pair was headed back to the priestess' chambers for some well deserved rest.

"Wow, is it really evening already?" Malik marveled as he noticed the sky outside the window. He blinked before making a face, finding himself wondering if Bakura was alright without him. Though he knew that the thief could handle being alone easily, as Bakura had done it for many years now, Malik couldn't help but wonder if Bakura was missing him as much as he missed his friend. If Bakura had decided to return for him earlier than their agreed time, how would he know about it? Would the thief risk sneaking into the palace to get him?

Feeling rather concerned about this, Malik continued to stare out the window, as if looking for a sign of Bakura, even as he turned the corner. Unfortunately because he had not been watching where he was going he ended up bumping into someone and hitting his forehead against something rather hard.

It was as if the impact against his head echoed within it. A flash of something dark and terrifying assaulted his senses for the briefest of moments, leaving behind a foreboding painful feeling that resounded in his brain and caused him to stagger.

Malik yelped and clutched his forehead, grimacing as he felt not only pain but a deep lingering cold in his body. It was the most bizarre feeling, far different than anything he had felt at his father's hands.

"Watch where you're going!" a rather rough and angry voice snapped.

"S-sorry-!" Malik blurted out instinctively as he lifted his head to see who he had bumped into.

Looming before the siblings was a tall man with deep wrinkles set into his face, hard eyes, and a long, gray, tightly braided beard. He wore ornate robes befitting the position of a High Priest, which were highly decorated in gold and jewelry. The most striking of all the finery he wore though was a giant golden ring that hung from his neck by a cord of rope. It was a very strangely shaped object, with a triangle that was reminiscent of a pyramid surrounded by a circle that had five sharp dangling points at the bottom. Bisecting the pyramid was a pair of lines that separated briefly in the middle to form the stylized shape of eye; the same eye shape that was found on the other Millennium Items that Malik had seen earlier that day, including on the one Isis wore.

"Malik, are you alright?" Isis asked as she immediately moved to her brother's side. She gently placed her hands on his shoulders, as she obviously noticed the pain that he had been in after the impact.

Malik stared at the man and the ring-like Millennium Item, his eyes wide. He was staring face to face with what had to be the scariest piece of jewelry he had ever seen. While Isis' Millennium Item looked like jewelry, something about the priest's item scared him. However, Isis' words quickly woke him from his stupor. "Y-yes... m-my head feels funny, though..."

The man sneered at Malik in obvious disdain before brushing past the young boy rather roughly, bumping Malik into his sister. The man let out an indistinguishable grumble to himself, and it seemed as if wherever he was going was far more important than showing any concern over the reeling teenager who had ran into him.

Isis let out a startled noise as she caught Malik when he nearly fell into her and shot a glare at the man in spite of herself, though she managed to hold her tongue. Instead she decided to focus on the wellbeing of her little brother. "Are you sure you're alright, little brother?" she asked, her expression troubled.

Malik nodded weakly, though he reached up to gently touch his forehead. "...Yeah..."

"Come, you need to lie down," Isis said as she gently slipped her arm around her younger brother's shoulder to support him and began to lead him down the hallway.

Malik allowed himself to be lead away as he shook his head weakly. He was used to much harder hits, particularly the ones that were on purpose. It just made no sense why this one hurt so much.

It was then that the teenage boy heard someone laughing off in the distance. Though the voice was faint, it was clear that it was filled with dark amusement.

Malik jumped slightly at that and quickly looked over his shoulder, wondering if the priest was laughing at him. However, he found such a thought to be silly, as the hallway was completely empty save for himself and his sister.

"Malik?" Isis asked as she noticed her brother jump.

"Ah, I..." Malik blushed and rubbed his forehead a bit more. "...I thought I heard something. I guess it's just the ringing in my ears."

At least he hoped that was all that it was.

----

_ It was a very pleasant, peaceful day. The sun was shining high in the sky with nary a cloud in sight, as was the norm for a desert. Many people went about their daily lives within a small village tucked away within the safe surroundings of a large canyon. Due to the shade cast by the canyon walls and the underground rivers that had been tapped into by the people living there, the village had a surprising amount of green, with fields for farming beyond the buildings, and trees could be seen on occasion through out the village._

_ Many of the people within the village sported hair of colors that looked quite exotic and unusual when compared to those within the Pharaoh's city. Instead of simply brown or black hair with only the rare exception, here the exception seemed to be the norm, and many possessed unusually vibrant colors, such as orange or blue. Overall the people acted very friendly towards one another, and more than once one would pause whatever they were doing to help another person out with whatever task that needed aid._

_ Another difference between this village and the Pharaoh's city was that there didn't seem to be any market. Nearly all the adults were creating massive statues, intricately designed objects, or strange devices, while children ran up and down the streets playing games. The village was obviously one made mainly for the sake of craftsmen to work for their given expertise._

_ "Where... am I?"_

_ Malik stared around about him, his eyes wide. He gripped his tunic tightly as he stared about, his heart starting to race. "T-this place is...?"_

_ Just then a ball made of tightly stitched leather hit the ground beside the blond and rolled to a stop in front of his feet._

_ Malik stared down at the ball before looking up to see where it had come from._

_ "I've got it!" came the shout of a very young boy as he dashed towards Malik and the ball. Shockingly he had wild silvery white hair with vibrant silver eyes and a deep tan._

_ "Ah!?" Malik stared at the boy, eyes widening in recognition. "Bakura-!?"_

_ Bakura did not reply. He did not even seem to see the teenager standing before him. This was made frighteningly apparent when he ran right through Malik's body as if the blond wasn't even there._

_ Malik tensed, his breathing hitching. He hesitated before moving to feel himself, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Once he saw that he was not injured, and that he did still felt quite solid, he then turned to stare at Bakura._

_ "Got it!" the small boy shouted triumphantly as he held the ball up high._

_ "Throw it to me, brother!" a little girl shouted from somewhere behind Malik._

_ "Okay!" Bakura replied before he hefted the ball up over his head and flung it with all his might directly at Malik's head, or rather _through_ it._

_ Though such an action was surprising, it was less of a shock than what had been said. "Brother?" Malik murmured, turning his head to try and see who it was that had claimed kinship to the thief._

_ There were many children gathered, waiting to catch the ball, and most of them looked to be only about knee high. However, it seemed impossible to mistake who Bakura's sister was. There was only one little girl with an uncannily resemblance to the young thief, and they even wore similar worn tunics with shoes lined with gold. The main differences between them were gender and her very long, silky white hair that spilled out from the blue ribbon she wore and fell over her face, nearly hiding her bright blue eyes._

_ "Who the..." Malik gaped at the girl._

_ The girl lunged to catch the ball thrown to her but unfortunately she ended up just barely missing it, and hit the ground with a grunt._

_ "Kisara!" Bakura shouted before he ran over to his sister and knelt beside her. "You okay?"_

_ Malik stared at Bakura and the girl, blinking slowly before making a face. "Is this... Bakura's past?"_

_ The little girl, Kisara, let out another quiet grunt as she lifted her head and looked at her brother sheepishly, her face covered in dirt. "I'm okay," she replied as she brushed her hair away from her eyes._

_ Bakura stuck out his tongue and made a face as he helped his sister up. "That hair always gets in your eyes," he commented. "You should get mommy to cut it."_

_ "No!" Kisara protested as she held her hair, as if protecting it from an impending attack. "I like my hair this way!"_

_ "If this is Bakura's past, why am I seeing this?" Malik made a face, feeling rather confused._

_ Bakura razzed the blue-eyed girl. "What's so great about long hair?" he asked. "It always gets in the way."_

_ "You're just saying that 'cause people thought you were me until mommy cut yours," Kisara retorted and crossed her arms with a huff. "You looked better with it long."_

_ Bakura's face turned red at the remarks. "Sh-shut up!" he shouted with obvious embarrassment._

_ "Hey, are you done playing?" the child holding the ball asked, as nearly all the others playing the game stopped to stare at the twins._

_ The two white haired children jerked simultaneously to look towards the other children. "Coming!" they shouted as one._

_ The similar reaction caused the pair to blink before Bakura started to pout and Kisara let out a little giggle. They said nothing more, however, before they ran off to resume the game._

_ "This is... weird." Malik felt at a complete loss. He couldn't understand what he was seeing, how he was seeing it, or _why_ he was seeing it._

_ It was then that the sky started to grow dark and the sounds the people of the village were making slowly quieted._

_ "Eh?" Malik looked up at that, staring at the sky._

_ The games ceased and work ground to a halt as the people stopped to stare at the black clouds that formed across the sky and seemed to literally eat the light of the sun, leaving only darkness._

_ When the light died completely the people began to scream._

_ Malik let out a strangled cry as he jerked about, eyes darting about wildly despite the fact that he couldn't see the people - or the source of their screams._

_ Just then a flicker of gold was seen in the darkness. It started as one spot in the horizon then grew closer until it became apparent that it was a river of molten gold that flowed towards Malik, lit with golden flames._

_ The blond stared at the river before crying out, glancing around before bolting to the side to get out of the path of the river._

_ The molten gold seemed to flow in an unnatural manner, as if some unseen force was directing it, for it moved to completely surround Malik on all sides, trapping him._

_ Malik came to a stop, simply gawking at the river in disbelief as all avenues of escape were eliminated._

_ Fortunately the bubbling, burning river did not advance any further, leaving the young boy an island of sorts to stand on. Slowly the golden flames died down and then burned out completely just before the gold itself started to turn black until it became a river of darkness._

_ "...I must be dreaming..." Malik mumbled, turning about in circles as he stared at the river from all angles._

_ Somehow the blond was able to still see the darkened river bubbling around him in spite of the lack of light from the flames, and he could see himself quite clearly, even if nothing else could be made out._

_ Suddenly the image of a face formed in the black goo before a human figure emerged with an unearthly shriek. It reached out for Malik with a melting hand before being consumed by the river once again._

_ Malik let out a strangled cry before stumbling back from the river. Almost immediately he realized that as he was backing away from one side of the river, he was getting too close to the other side. This caused the blond to whip about again. He stumbled about for a few seconds before crouching squarely in the middle of his tiny island of safety, shaking._

_ All around him more human-like figures emerged from the river, creating horrible screams as they clamored for the helpless boy, yet always seemed to fall short before they melted back into the dark river again._

_ "W-w-wh... what is this...?" Malik whimpered, shaking badly._

_ "Your fate if you continue interfering."_

_ "Ah-!?" the blond looked up._

_ Surprisingly standing before Malik on top of the writhing river as if it were solid ground was none other than Bakura. While the thief's presence should have been a welcome one, the expression of hatred on his face made Malik's blood run cold. However, the most frightening thing was how Bakura glared at the former slave with blazing red eyes that did not seem to belong to him._

_ "B... Bakura?" Malik whispered breathlessly, staring at the thief._

_ "This is none of your concern," Bakura responded with a sneer on his face. "Do not interfere with their vengeance, or you will be consumed by their hatred like all the rest."_

_ The figures writhing in the dark wailed and clawed towards Malik feverishly, but still they gained no ground._

_ "Bakura, why... how can you say that...?" Malik slowly stood to his feet, still staring at Bakura in disbelief._

_ "Because you are trying to stop the hundredth sacrifice," the man with the red eyes replied with a cold voice filled with venom._

_ "Sacrifice?" Malik repeated._

_ "The sacrifice of one-hundred is the key to opening the door to darkness," Bakura said lowly as he held his hand upwards, fingers spread. "And then this world shall be consumed by darkness." He then slowly closed his hand, as if he were crushing something unseen. "If you continue to interfere, I will make you suffer beyond anything you have ever known." His piercing gaze that never once looked away from Malik's eyes seemed to become even more frightening as the tone of his voice grew even colder._

_ "Who is... who is the hundredth sacrifice?" Malik found himself asking._

_ A small evil smile appeared on Bakura's face, which grew to become almost too wide for him to possibly make naturally. "Someone who has been mine since the creation of the Millennium Items."_

_ "Who has been...?" Malik stared at Bakura before a sudden realization came to him and his eyes narrowed. "...Who are you? You're not Bakura!"_

_ The man pretending to be Bakura simply laughed, his voice dark and booming, and it almost sounded as if it were coming from all around Malik. The wailing of the lost souls writhing in the dark rose in volume and alarmingly they started clamoring towards the blond on all sides, crawling on top of each other as they reached out for Malik with melting fingers._

_ Malik yelped as he scrambled back, only to find more of the lost souls behind him. He screamed and swatted at their hands as they clawed and grasped at him. Alarmingly they not only clung to him, but melted onto him, as if trying to drown him within themselves._

_ As Malik was consumed by the darkness, screaming, he felt himself grow numb, until only the fear and laughter of the dark creature that pretended to be Bakura remained._

----

"Malik? ...Malik?"

Malik didn't hear his sister's voice as he toyed with his breakfast, picking at it with a fork. He couldn't forget the nightmare that had plagued him the night before. Worse than that, however were the terrifying whispers that crept in the back of his mind and became most noticeable when all was silent. At first he thought they had been lingering remnants of his nightmare, or real people whispering elsewhere in the palace, but it seemed as if they were neither. What they were saying couldn't be made out clearly. It was distorted somehow, and it sounded like many people talking far away, like a distant crowd gathering. He simply didn't know what to make of it, or what he should _do_ about it.

However, he wasn't thinking so deeply that he didn't notice Isis' hand touching his shoulder suddenly.

Malik jumped with a squeak and whipped around to stare at Isis. "A-ah!?"

Isis jerked slightly herself at the intensity of her brother's reaction, her expression troubled. "Malik?" she asked with obvious concern. "Is something wrong?"

"N-no, I..." Malik trailed off for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders slightly. "I was just thinking."

"About what?" Isis asked.

"...A dream I had last night," the young boy replied.

"I see... and this dream is troubling you?" Isis inquired in a gentle tone.

Malik simply nodded. He didn't want to tell his sister about the dream, as it was very confusing. He was worried that she might think that there was something wrong with his mind!

"Would you like to talk about it?" Isis offered as she moved to sit back down at her place across from Malik. They had been having a rather nice breakfast together, with a wide array of dishes spread out before them so the former slave could sample a wide variety of food. Unfortunately due to a disturbing dream and the mysterious voices, the meal wasn't as pleasant as either of them would have liked.

"Well, it's just..." Malik trailed off a moment. He turned to look at his sister before making a face. "...Do... do you believe in... ghosts?"

"Ghosts?" Isis repeated, as if she hadn't heard right.

"Y-yeah," Malik felt his face go red, realizing he must have asked a stupid question. "Ghosts."

Isis touched her hand lightly to her chin with a thoughtful look on her face. "Well... I can't say that I've ever actually seen one or know anyone who has, but, yes, I believe that they exist."

Malik stared at his sister for a moment, and then made a face. "How do you get rid of them? Like... if they're haunting you."

Isis was silent as she mulled over what she had been asked. Suddenly her face lit up with realization. "Was that what your dream was about, Malik?"

Malik nodded. His dream _was_ about ghosts, he just wouldn't mention the exact details.

That confirmation caused Isis' expression to relax noticeably, as if she was relieved that the inquiry was a simple curiosity caused by a dream, rather than a real concern for her little brother. "Ghosts are lost souls whose bodies were completely destroyed, so they could not go to judgment or the afterlife. The only way to appease them and lead them on their way is through the use of an avatar."

"An... avatar?" Malik made a face at that. Where was he going to get an avatar?

"An avatar is a special person chosen by the gods to take the lost soul or souls to the afterlife," Isis explained.

"...Chosen by the gods...?" Malik repeated slowly.

Isis nodded. "Only those blessed by the gods are able to see ghosts and communicate with them. It is the duty of those chosen to guide these lost souls to the afterlife... even at the cost of their own lives."

Malik made a face at that, as that explanation troubled him. Did that mean Bakura had been chosen by the gods to guide the souls of Kuru Eruna to the afterlife? But they did not die through natural means, but rather through evil means. Would the gods get involved then?

"I don't believe you have anything to worry about though, brother," Isis said with a kind smile on her face. "The ghosts you saw were only a dream."

"...Y-yeah, just a dream," Malik muttered, though he truly didn't mean it.

"Just keep in mind that ghosts can't harm you because of the fact that they don't have their bodies any longer," Isis said soothingly. "They can scare you, but that's the worst they can do."

Malik went very quiet at that, as he remembered vividly the sight of his father's horrible death. It would seem that his sister didn't know as much about ghosts as they both thought she did.

After seeing that her brother seemed even less assured by what she had just said, Isis grew concerned again. "...If you would like, I could research more information about ghosts, Malik," she offered after a number of moments of silence. "I'm certain that the library has documents recording such incidents. Then you can see for yourself that there is nothing to fear."

"R-really?" Malik was encouraged by such an offer, relief flooding his expression. "That would be great!"

Isis simply smiled in response, obviously pleased that she had managed to cheer her little brother up.

Malik couldn't be more thrilled at the prospect. Surely there would be some information in the palace's library about the spirits of Kuru Eruna and how to help them. After all, it was those at the palace who did it in the first place. Now that he had that information at his disposal, he could give Bakura that information. There would be no more sacrifices!

"We better finish eating breakfast before the food gets cold, Malik," Isis pointed out gently before she resumed eating.

Malik nodded at that and proceeded to eat the food that he had been only playing with before. However, after a moment, he had another thought. The young boy glanced at his sister again. "Isis, what was that... thing around that priest's neck? The one I hit my head on?"

Isis was momentarily startled by the abrupt question, but quickly composed herself. "That was another one of the seven Millennium Items, the Millennium Ring," she replied. "The person who bumped into you is Runihura, another one of the six trusted High Priests like myself."

"So that was a Millennium Item," Malik thought, grimacing. "No wonder it hurt so much. It's made from pure evil." Such a thought caused the young blond to pause before looking at Isis and the Item she herself wore. "...How were they made?"

Isis seemed caught off-guard by such a question and she blinked at Malik with a look of confusion on her face. "I'm not entirely certain of all of the details..." she admitted reluctantly. "...But from what I've been told, they were created through a sacred ritual priest Akunadin, the holder of the Millennium Eye, performed before Prince Atemu was born, in order to save this kingdom from ruthless invaders."

Malik looked at Isis intently before making a face. "A... sacred ritual." His sister was not aware of how they had been made, but using a word to describe what happened at Kuru Eruna just seemed like blasphemy all on its own.

Isis nodded. "They were created by the will of the gods, who helped Akunadin translate the Book of Millennium Magic in order to make them and save our kingdom."

Malik simply gaped at his sister. Will of the gods? How could the will of the gods involve sacrificing nearly a hundred people in such a brutal way? What sort of gods did his sister follow that considered this behavior to be acceptable?

Isis either didn't notice Malik's look or assumed that it was for another reason than appalled distress. "Not only did they bless us with the Millennium Items, but the gods also blessed us with the sacred tablets in their image... though I'm afraid that because no one knows their names, not even the Pharaoh can summon them with the power of his Millennium Pendant."

"...That's most likely because their names are 'Cruel', 'Evil', 'Destroy', or 'Murder'," Malik thought. "And no one would guess something like that."

Isis tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Come to think of it... I heard that Prince Atemu had been born on that very day. The gods had blessed us three times over."

Malik didn't feel the same way. What a truly horrible day to be born - the same day that so many lost their lives! The more he thought about the situation, the more it unnerved him. For his sister to be so completely oblivious to the evils that had happened that night, it must truly have been a well-guarded secret - a hidden shame. He needed to find a way to free Bakura from it.

"...A-about that library," Malik murmured, aware that he was bringing on a rather sudden change of topic. "...Can you take me there now?"

"Certainly, Malik, but don't you want to finish breakfast first?" Isis asked as she gave her brother a somewhat perplexed look.

Malik blinked at that and glanced down at his plate, noting the food still there. He hesitated before taking his fork to shovel the food in his mouth quickly. He chewed it slightly before swallowing it, trying not to choke. He patted his chest a bit to help it go down easier before turning to Isis with a sheepish grin. "I'm done!"

Isis blinked, surprised. After a moment, however, she couldn't help but burst out giggling, and had to cover her mouth to quiet herself.

----

Malik stood outside the palace gates, pacing slightly. While he knew it was safe, he also knew it never paid to be at ease. Darkness filled the area due to the late hour, which only added to his anxiety as he waited for Bakura. As they had discussed days prior, he was to wait there for Bakura to pick him up, and then they would go home together.

It took quite a bit of assurance to convince Isis to let him wait outside alone, without even any guards around to keep an eye on him, as she seemed fairly concerned at such an arrangement. He had been afraid that he would have to sneak out in order to meet with Bakura, but Isis finally relented after she was given assurance that he would at least remain within hearing range of the guards.

"So that worked out," Malik murmured. Had it really been four days since he saw Bakura? Time certainly seemed to fly once he got into the massive library. He had overestimated the reading skills Bakura had taught him, finding that the books spoke nothing short of nonsense and squiggly lines to him. Such a fact shocked Isis, as she had apparently assumed their father would at least teach him to _read_.

In the end, he was very grateful for Isis reading the books to him - and even helping him learn to read some himself! He was able to not only spend time with his sister but discover an enormous amount of information on ghosts and dealing with them.

Much of what Malik had learned simply reinforced what Isis had said. However, he had grown to believe that the books would not cover what had happened at Kuru Eruna - after all, those involved were lying about it and trying to hide it. Instead, he used the information available and decided to apply it to the situation.

He needed to find a way to pacify the ghosts of Kuru Eruna without bloodshed, without death. He knew that such a thing would not satisfy them; in fact, all the books suggested that it would _worsen_ their plight as their desire for vengeance would increase, never to be sated.

Unfortunately, the books couldn't tell him of any alternatives. Either the authors did not know, or were not allowed to write it down. He had no idea how far the deception went - even the Pharaoh could have been in on it.

"I'll have to get my hands on _untainted_ books," Malik thought to himself as he stopped to look at the sky, staring at the moon intently. "I'll have to look through the books back home... the books that belong to Bakura. I don't think he'll read them to me... so I need to teach myself how to read and go from there. I'll... figure this out. I'll save the people of Kuru Eruna... and Bakura."

Such thoughts were abruptly interrupted as someone suddenly grabbed Malik from behind.

Malik tensed up and let out a thin squeak, his eyes widening. He whipped his head about in a panic, ready to scream for help.

Fortunately such a thing was quickly proven unnecessary, as the blond caught sight of silver hair and could feel the grab had quickly become a rather tight hug. It was none other than Bakura who held him closely from behind.

"Sorry I'm late," the thief murmured in Malik's ear, his voice underlined with a strange emotion that was hard to identify.

"Bakura..." Malik let out a sigh of relief before giving Bakura a slightly irritated look over his shoulder. "You scared me!"

Bakura buried his face against Malik's neck, making it impossible for the other boy to see his expression, leaving Malik just the sight of messy silver hair. He paused for a few moments before answering so that he could breathe in the blond's scent. "Sorry," he muttered simply, the word tickling Malik's skin due to how his lips were pressed against his friend's neck.

Malik blinked at that before he grew concerned and his expression reflected it. The thief seemed to be behaving strangely. "Bakura? Is... is something wrong?"

Bakura was silent for a few moments before answering. "I just... really missed you, Malik," he murmured.

Those words were an understatement of how Bakura had felt. Though he had not taken the decision to leave Malik at the palace lightly, and he had good reasoning for doing so, he couldn't help but wonder the entire time that they were separated if he had made a grievous mistake. Such worry was a very dangerous distraction when trying to acquire a sacrifice for the spirits...

It was only after it was far too late to turn back did Bakura realize that had essentially handed over his most precious thing into the clutches of the Pharaoh. He felt quite relieved that nothing had apparently happened to Malik because of the blond's stay at the palace. Even if his worrying seemed to be for nothing, he never wanted to risk Malik like that again.

"I... I missed you too," Malik replied, his face tinting slightly red as heat filled his cheeks at the thief's words. "I was really anxious to see you again."

Bakura made a quiet sound at the back of his throat. "Good," he mumbled before reluctantly leaning back and loosening his hold so that Malik could turn around. "Come on... let's go home."

Malik nodded at that as he turned about to fully face Bakura. However, the suddenly stopped short once he got a good look at the thief and stared at Bakura's hair. It was considerably shorter, almost alarmingly so. "B... Bakura-!?"

Bakura was momentarily surprised by Malik being so startled, but could quickly guess exactly what his companion was staring at. Unthinkingly he reached up to touch a lock of his now much shorter hair. It was as messy as ever, but now ended just past his chin in a rather jagged cut. "So, what do you think?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"What happened... to your hair?" Malik murmured, staring at it.

"It was in the way, so I needed to cut it," Bakura said dismissively as he lowered his hand.

Malik stared at Bakura intently, his mind trying to fathom what possible reason he could have for cutting his hair. What was Bakura doing that his hair was 'in the way'?

All at once, the reason occurred to him from a memory of a time when the servants would tug at his hair back when he was his father's slave. There was no other time in which his hair couldn't be simply tucked out of the way. This brought him to a realization that Bakura had to have been in a situation where someone pulling his hair was a danger to him. That thought made Malik's expression grow pained.

Bakura had been out killing someone.

The thief had used Malik's visit with his sister as an excuse to sacrifice someone else to the ghosts. _That_ was why Bakura had been so intent on Malik visiting his sister, and even suggested such a thing. Malik should have been _more_ suspicious that Bakura was willing to deposit him in the one place the thief loathed the most: the Pharaoh's palace.

Bakura had needed a way to keep Malik occupied so he could kill someone else, like he had killed Malik's father.

Malik felt hurt and upset, but at the same time overwhelmingly concerned. It simply brought to mind what he had learned at the royal library. Bakura was becoming further entangled in the revenge plans of the spirits of Kuru Eruna. The thief was being dragged down with them in their madness, and he would become lost if the Malik didn't do anything.

Malik _needed_ to find a way to save the spirits and Bakura.

With that in mind, Malik forced his expression to change - erasing the pain and putting on a pleasant smile.

"I take it you don't like it," Bakura commented when he noticed the pained look on Malik's face. Such an expression made him feel rather uneasy. Even the smile that followed it didn't change that feeling of ill-ease.

"No, no," Malik replied, still smiling. "It just took me by surprise! It looks really good on you... and it must be a lot cooler this way, too. It'll take some getting used to, but I still like it."

Bakura wasn't entirely certain whether or not Malik was just saying that to appease him or actually meant it, though he suspected the former. He decided not to press Malik however, since the truth had been that the blond's silent guess was absolutely right. Bakura had underestimated his captive and let down his guard because he had been so worried about Malik and whether or not Isis would protect Malik or do something horrible to her brother, regardless of blood ties or fond memories Malik had.

It was because of this worry that Bakura had neglected to search his captive thoroughly for weapons before testing the man's heart. The moment his guard had accidentally slipped the man struck out at him and had grabbed the thief by the hair to get him off-balance.

Really, Bakura had been doubly careless. When he used his own knife to try and cut off the man's hand to get free he accidentally cut off his own hair instead.

The only positive thing out of it was that there was no question of the man's guilt and Bakura had been able to sacrifice him to the spirits without remorse. Afterward the silver-eyed boy had cut his hair shorter with his knife to even out the chunk that he had hacked off and to make sure that no one could use it against him like that again.

His only problem now though was preventing Malik from ever knowing the reason why he had cut it.

"Let's go home," Bakura said as he took Malik's hand in his, changing the subject.

"Yeah, let's go home," Malik agreed as he gripped Bakura's hands tightly. He had his work cut out for him, but the thief didn't need to worry anymore.

Malik was going to save Bakura.

----

_ Drip. Drip. Drip._

_ Malik grimaced as his eyes opened, the sound of liquid dripping piercing the silence of his mind and growing louder with every droplet. Groggily, he sat up and glanced around at his surroundings._

_ The room was completely dark - there was no ground, no ceiling, and no walls - nothing but darkness and emptiness._

_ Confused, Malik fumbled to his feet and rubbed the back of his head. He glanced around for the source of the dripping, more than a little confused._

_ Suddenly, a red light flickered in the darkness before two torches appeared in front of the young boy. An enormous statue made of obsidian appeared in front of him, nestled between the two torches._

_ The statue was of an enormous jackal, sitting upright and glaring off into the distance with clear crystal orbs for eyes. The orbs shimmered, always changing in color and never lingering long with any one hue. Gold circled its neck like a collar and created Egyptian designs along its face, much like makeup._

_ "A jackal?" Malik murmured breathlessly, confused. "...Anubis?"_

_ At the mention of the Lord of the Dead, the jackal statue's eyes suddenly glowed bright red. Malik jerked in surprise and stepped backwards, startled by the reaction._

_ "Chuuuu."_

_ Malik's face contorted comically as a small, miniature creature stepped out from behind the statue and moved to stand in-between its mighty paws. The creature looked like a jackal pup with face markings much like the statue's, in gold. It wore a red robe with gold and white trim, covered in ancient runes. A pair of gold wings, laughingly tiny, peeked out from its back as it stared at Malik - the left eye empty of any pupil, the right a soft blue._

_ In its paws was a small doll in the likeness of a very familiar silver haired bandit._

_ Malik gasped in surprise, eyes widening at the sight of the doll. "Bakura-!?"_

_ All at once, at the very mention of the name, Malik felt an intense emptiness inside of him. The emptiness was immediately followed by need, a need to find the thief in question._

_ "Bakura... where is he?" Malik demanded, stepping towards the tiny jackal creature. "Where is he?"_

_ The jackal didn't respond, instead holding the doll up for Malik to get a better glimpse. Upon closer inspection, the doll revealed itself to be quite sinister. It wore a necklace around its neck with tiny charms, one of each Millennium Item. Its expression was half pained, half pleased - as if it were torn between intense agony and intense pleasure._

_ Malik was taken back by the bizarre doll, then shook himself and stepped forward again. "Where _is_ he?" he repeated, growing irritated._

_ The jackal again didn't respond, holding the doll up for Malik to see._

_ "Yes, yes! It's a doll! I can see that!" Malik snapped, irritably. "But that's not Bakura! Bakura isn't a doll! He's a human being!"_

_ Suddenly the jackal statue trembled. Malik jumped back in alarm, jerking his head up to stare at the statue. The statue's eyes glowed even more brightly, finally revealing the source of the dripping._

_ Blood was oozing down its face and dripping to the ground, like tears._

_ Alarmed, Malik returned his gaze to the jackal pup only to find it and the Bakura doll gone. The young boy felt alarm fill his very being as the dripping increased in intensity._

_ The blood tears increased in volume, oozing along the statue's face slowly at first before bursting forth like a river, spewing the crimson fluid as if it had a gaping wound._

_ Malik stepped back in alarm as twin blood rivers formed around him, disappearing into the darkness. Some of the blood splattered onto his purple vest and pants, causing him to cry out in alarm and disgust. Grimacing, the young boy hurried to the platform the statue rested upon, getting away from the blood before it flooded the room and encased him._

_ The moment Malik stepped on the statue platform, the room came to life. Light erupted from all corners, illuminating his surroundings and chasing away the darkness. It revealed that he was not in emptiness, but instead in a massive room._

_ A room made out of corpses._

_ Malik gawked, as he could see arms, legs, and other body parts in the floor, the ceiling, and the walls. Faces stared at him with wide eyes, mouths moving in silent words as fingers wiggled and toes twitched. It was as if the entire room was alive - and yet very much dead._

_ Even worse, the blood was flooding the room and quickly rising to the platform's level. Panicked, Malik looked around desperately for any method of escape._

_ "You're not giving up just because it's difficult, are you?" a voice hissed, deep and gravely like grinding bones._

_ Malik turned about quickly and let out a surprised gasp as he found himself with a twisted, disgusting sight before him. A creature loomed before him, looking like the jackal pup, except a more adult form, a form that was also rotting. Its clothes were tattered, its bones showing through dead flesh. It looked partially devoured, its wings torn apart to just the bare frames of one with a few black feathers clinging to the wretched flesh. It glared viciously at Malik, its right eye blank and left eye piercing and unfriendly._

_ "W-what...?" Malik gasped. The creature grinned, flashing its wicked teeth at the boy._

_ "Why don't you back up your words?" it taunted, before chuckling deeply. Its body quivered at the action, bits of flesh dripping from its body with each movement._

_ "Back up my words...?" Malik repeated, very disturbed._

_ "A bit of a parrot, aren't you?" the creature observed, arching what was left of an eyebrow, before he leaned back. As he did so, the room began to disappear into darkness once more. "Do you ever think for yourself? Pathetic."_

_ Malik cried out in alarm as the darkness crept up around him, swallowing his legs as well as the statue. The creature continued to grin at Malik as it too disappeared into the darkness until only its eyes and mouth remained._

_ "I look forward to your visit, boy."_

_ And then, there was nothing._


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Chapter Seventeen

----

Malik sat comfortably in the cave's surprisingly large library, surrounded by books of all kinds in assorted piles. He looked over the massive book in his lap, running his fingertips along the words as he read them. He had to thank Bakura for teaching him how to read the ancient books, as it was most helpful in his goal.

He was going to find a way to save Bakura _and_ the spirits from their fate.

Bakura had been acting rather resigned about the entire subject of escaping his "fate" and chose to avoid talking about the topic or his past as much as possible. However, Malik had made up his mind about it. As he saw it, the thief was enslaved by supernatural powers so it would take supernatural powers to rescue him. That was where the books came in.

The books were ancient and filled with knowledge that had long since disappeared from this world, from a civilization of magic and mystery that was beyond human grasp. Thanks to Bakura's lessons, however, it was no longer beyond _his_ grasp. The library in the cave put the Pharaoh's library to shame - while there weren't as many books, the books it did have were far more valuable than those that Isis had read to him. And far more helpful, too!

It had been three months since the death of his father, three months since he decided to go on his mission and devour every text available to him for the answer, three months since he asked Isis to read the books from the royal library to him, and three months since he began searching the books in the cave he and Bakura shared. For those three months Malik had been encouraging Bakura to resist the spirits - to find another way to satisfy them.

Malik grinned slightly. Thanks to his meddling and increasing insistence, he could tell that Bakura was staring to wear down. He had even gotten Bakura to admit that the books might hold something the silver-eyed boy hadn't been aware of before. Bakura had even started some research of his own, though he never went into detail as to exactly what exactly he was researching.

"I feel bad for nagging him so much," Malik thought, sighing softly. "It's putting him in a bad mood... but to save his soul, I don't mind temporary misery."

With that thought, Malik put a slip of paper into his book to mark his place, and then set the book down and stretched. Bakura was due back soon from his latest trip, which Malik had made him swear was _not_ to feed the spirits. The former slave had made an effort to ask Bakura every time before he left anywhere - even if the thief lied to Malik about where he was going, it meant he would at least have guilt while doing it.

Malik stood up, stretching his legs again, before heading to the kitchen. He would make the thief a nice meal for him, with hopes of taking off some of the edge that the former slave had been forcing upon Bakura.

Even though Malik felt incredibly guilty over forcing Bakura to face just how terrible the things the thief was doing for the spirits really were, he knew that it was necessary. Despite his lack of knowledge about many things, especially how to deal with people, it was clear, even to him, that the spirits were slowly eating away at Bakura's sanity, and had taken far too much of it already. Because no one had ever cared about Bakura before Malik arrived since Kuru Eruna was lost, and furthermore simply used the thief at every opportunity - a sad fact that he had slowly uncovered over his many conversations with Bakura over the topic, in spite of his friend's reluctance to talk about his past - Bakura had been at the mercy of the spirits' vengeful will for over a decade, with no one to help him.

Malik had learned much these past three months, both from books, and from Bakura. The fact that the blond was succeeding in coaxing Bakura to open up little by little and talk about these dark things eating away at his soul, letting Malik help him deal with them, made the former slave feel determination like he had never known before.

It hadn't been easy to get to this point. After Malik had returned from the Pharaoh's palace things were looking so hopeful, in spite of the thief's deception. Bakura had been more affectionate after that, and hadn't spoken a word about Malik returning to the palace or that the blond should stay in the cave while he left to make another sacrifice. It had been a very pleasant time that gave Malik hope that Bakura could be freed of such a horrible fate as being a slave to the enraged ghosts.

Unfortunately as more time passed Bakura grew increasingly restless, as the spirits took their toll on his sanity because of how he ignored their demands for blood. His temper would fray and he would end up becoming angrier at anything and everything in general. He was good about keeping his harsh glares and venomous words directed away from Malik, though a number of things in their home suffered from it. More than one piece of furniture and precious item stolen had been shattered in a violent rage.

More worrisome had been the fights Bakura would end up picking with random strangers when they were in the city together. Malik had been utterly terrified that the thief would get arrested for such actions, but fortunately they would escape the scene before the guards could get involved.

It was clear at that point that eventually something was going to give.

Though Malik had tried his best to stay at Bakura's side to prevent the thief from having the opportunity to kill someone, one day, about a month after he had returned from the palace, Bakura had snapped. To Malik's shock Bakura stole back his locket and left the cave before he could stop his friend from doing so. Without the locket or any magical abilities Malik was trapped within the cave, helpless to prevent Bakura from leaving.

Two days later Bakura returned. He had been unable to even look Malik in the eye as he returned the locket he had given to the former slave, and all he could say was that he was sorry.

After that Malik stopped trying to get in Bakura's way when his former master wanted to leave on his own at the bidding of the spirits. He had seen firsthand what they would force Bakura to do, and to what extremes Bakura would go to achieve a bit of peace from their maddening demands. He had also seen just how frightening Bakura had become because of them, and he did not want to see that terrifying crazed look in Bakura's eyes ever again.

Such a sight was worse than the night his father had died.

Although Bakura still sacrificed people for the spirits, when he would return, Malik knew it right away and now understood why he would return sometimes with blood on his clothes but with no wounds. The sight of blood, no matter how little, was a dead giveaway, and Malik would either see them when he greeted the thief, or when he washed Bakura's clothes later. After so many confrontations with Bakura about this, the silver haired boy stopped trying to hide it, and would simply say that he was sorry upon his return and nothing further than that.

It was shocking how often Bakura would have to make sacrifices, or at least it was to Malik. He guessed - given past memories and these new clues and incidents - that his best friend would manage to on average last about five days more or less before the spirits became too overwhelming for Bakura to bear. For such torture to become unbearable after less than a week, refraining from giving in for over a month must have been excruciating for Bakura.

Malik had also learned that Bakura going out to steal was not only practice for when the thief went after the Millennium Items, but it was also used as a means to hide the fact that his main purpose was to kidnap people to sacrifice. After all, if a person went missing during a robbery, someone would more likely assume that it was the work of a greedy thief trying to make extra money for slave trading, and not realize that it was the work of someone making ritualistic sacrifices. Thankfully the time between each sacrifice slowly lengthened due to Malik's determination to help Bakura, which served as proof that he was making progress.

Even if Malik still had a lot of work ahead of him, he felt hope for the future. He knew for certain that one day that he would save Bakura's soul.

At that moment, Malik heard the sounds of the cave entrance opening up. Eagerly, the young boy turned about and hurried to the front of the cave to greet Bakura - who, hopefully, would not be covered in blood.

However, as Malik rounded the corner, he came to a dead stop and gawked. What he saw was not the awful sight of Bakura covered in gore from another murder, but something far worse. The main entrance hall of the cave was filled with people, the Pharaoh's soldiers, with many more pouring in. Leading them was none other than the man that he had run into three months ago at the palace: High Priest Runihura, the wielder of the Millennium Ring.

Malik stood frozen in shock and horror, too paralyzed with fear to even move. The color drained from his face as the priest turned to stare at the much older man, their eyes locking for a moment.

"You there!" Runihura shouted as he thrust out his hand toward Malik, pointing accusingly at the blonde. "Surrender yourself in the name of the Pharaoh!" Before the blond could answer, the soldiers were already rushing towards him, each carrying sharp, deadly spears.

Panic surged through Malik and he let out a scream before bolting away from the invaders, images of Kuru Eruna flooding his mind. All he could think about was what they had done then and what they might do to him now.

Malik could hear the soldiers running after him, shouting as they went. Fear filled every corner of his being as he darted along the hallways and rooms, trying to get someplace safe away from the Pharaoh's men. Unfortunately, the cave had no other exits - he had to hide until they left.

Quickly, Malik circled around to the back of the cave and dove behind the Anubis statue there, ducking behind it. As much as he was terrified of the unknown threat that was hidden behind the rock wall, he was more terrified of the _known_ threat down the hall: the soldiers.

As Malik hid behind the golden altar with the hopes that it might protect him, he cringed at the sound of the soldiers as their heavy footsteps thundered down the hallway.

"Search every room!" he could hear the priest shout. "Capture everyone you find! Leave no place overlooked!"

The giant stone doors of what were once homes to some unknown people that had made residence in this cave before Bakura and Malik had arrived were wrenched open, slamming hard against the rocky walls, only adding to the noise that the soldiers made. The curtains that separated the main hallways from the others were torn away, including the one that shielded the statue of Anubis from view.

Malik tensed, his eyes wide, as he remained perfectly still. He could feel his heart beating faster inside his chest, his fear reaching incredibly high levels.

Malik could hear the soldiers coming closer, slamming open the doors that led to the library where he had done so much research, the room where Bakura made his healing potions, and the others he had yet to venture into. He could hear the soldiers talking amongst themselves, some in wonder at how this place had been made, others inquiring if someone had found the young boy yet.

Just then Malik heard something that made his blood run cold.

"Someone check behind that altar!"

Malik looked up just in time to see a soldier, who looked barely any older than him, peering behind the altar and locking eyes with him.

The soldier's eyes widened before he immediately moved back to get the attention of the others. "Here!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "I've found him over here!"

Malik squeaked and scooted further behind the statue; thankful he was small enough to fit in such a tiny alcove. He doubted the soldiers could - and even if they could, their weapons wouldn't. Thus, even if they tried to wriggle their way in he could kick them right back out!

Many groping hands reached in as a number of soldiers tried to grab any part of Malik that they could. Thankfully for him they were unable to reach due to how large the altar was and how narrow the space between it and the wall was. They shouted at him angrily to come out or for others to try harder to get inside and reach him, but their efforts were in vain.

Malik kicked and slapped at the hands whenever they got too close. The soldiers clearly grew increasingly angry and frustrated at his actions. However, the former slave didn't care how angry they got so long as they left him alone!

Eventually they ceased their efforts after all they yielded was nothing but bruises for their arms and hands. One attempted to squeeze their entire body through, but was too large to fit. A number started to discuss what to do when the voice of the priest interrupted them.

"You found the boy?"

Malik froze, his eyes widening, as he _recognized_ that voice, the cold and unfriendly voice of Runihura.

"Yes, sir, but we can't get him out from behind that altar!" presumably one of the soldiers said.

"Y-you..." Malik murmured, the color draining from his face.

"Another altar? Here?" Runihura asked, unable to hear the blond muttering.

"What should we do about him, sir?"

"Reach behind there and grab him. Drag him out of there!"

"G... go away!" Malik cried out as he gripped the altar tightly. "I'll tell my sister on you!" It was a long-shot, but he had to try something. Surely this priest would have some measure of respect for Isis!

"Not if you're _dead_, boy," Runihura said in a frightening tone.

"..._What_?" Malik repeated, his eyes wide as he stared at Runihura past the statue. He couldn't have heard the priest correctly.

"I'm sorry honored priest, but none of us can reach around to get him," a soldier said.

"I'm... safe, I guess," Malik thought as he peered over the statue slightly. "But what did he mean...?"

"S-sir, are you serious? He's a little boy!"

"Don't question the High Priest! Know your place!"

"Remove that statue!" Runihura commanded, and Malik could barely see him point at the statue, a rather frightening look on his face. "That 'child' has ties to the infamous Thief King, who has been kidnapping countless people of our kingdom!"

Some of the soldiers rushed forward to do as they were told, but immediately jerked backwards when the eyes of the statue started to glow. A low growl escaped from the statue as it seemed to glare at the soldiers hatefully.

"W-what is...?"

"It's haunted!"

"Stand your ground!" Runihura barked. "The power of the Millennium Ring shall hold this trap at bay like the others!" A golden glow then started to surround the Millennium Ring as its points shifted about, as if in a strong breeze, and the tinkling of metal echoed off the cave walls in an ominous manner.

The growling of the statue seemed to increase as the glow of the eyes intensified, casting all in a crimson radiance. Malik gawked at the statue as well as at Runihura, completely baffled by the situation.

Runihura was not intimidated by the apparently living statue, even though many of the soldiers surrounding him were. He muttered lowly to himself and then thrust his palm outwards at the statue with a cry. A strange gold light emitted from the Millennium Ring then and hit the statue.

The statue quivered in response as it seemed to hold its ground. However, as valiantly as it fought, all too quickly the light dimmed before the statue went silent.

Malik felt a growing sense of dread as he started at the statue, the color draining from his face as fear welled up inside him.

"The trap within that statue will not harm us, so move it aside, men!" Runihura commanded roughly.

The soldiers, now encouraged that their mighty priest had subdued the statue, hurried forward. They grabbed at the statue and slowly tugged it out, feeling increasingly confident as it made no protest as it was being removed.

Malik watched helplessly as the statue was moved, his heart racing. He jerked his head up to stare at Runihura with wide eyes, as he started to realize that the High Priest was completely serious.

Such a realization came too late, unfortunately, as the priest suddenly thrust a sword through the young boy's chest the moment he had been exposed.

Malik's eyes widened as he let out a strangled cry, blood splattering as the sword stabbed into his flesh. The boy jerked back against the wall, trembling all over as pain flooded through him. His eyes filled with tears due to the pain as all the color drained from his face.

"Boy, listen and listen well," Runihura said in a low, dangerous tone as he glared directly into Malik's eyes and held the blond pinned to the wall with his sword. "The wound I have just given to you is not fatal, but that could change in an instant if you do not do _exactly_ as I tell you. Do you understand?"

Malik made a strangled sound, unable to really respond due to the pain. He stared at Runihura, his body shuddering violently as blood gushed out of the wound. _This_ was what had destroyed Kuru Eruna, _this_ was what had destroyed Bakura's life. While Runihura most likely was not there when it happened or was even responsible for it, he was still cut from the same mold as the people who had.

_This_ was the Pharaoh's evil.

"_Do you understand?_" Runihura demanded as he twisted the blade clockwise ever so slightly. "Speak!"

Malik let out a scream as he jerked, his eyes snapping shut at the pain. He trembled as his hands fumbled up, grasping the locket around the neck instinctively. He clutched it tightly before struggling to get some breath, despite the pain. "...U... Understand...!"

"Good," Runihura said in a self-satisfied manner as he ceased moving the blade. "Now, you are going to tell me exactly what I want to know, and you will tell me the truth, otherwise you shall suffer. Where is the so called 'Thief King'?"

Malik stared at Runihura, as it slowly settled in his pain-filled mind that the priest and the soldiers were after Bakura. But for what reason? The priest had mentioned kidnappings - they must have been referring to the sacrifices! What did they intend to do to Bakura after they found him? Clearly with how vicious the priest was being to _him_, they planned to do much worse to Bakura.

"_Where is the Thief King?_" Runihura repeated in a louder voice as he slowly twisted the blade once again.

Malik let out a pained cry, his eyes snapping shut as he flinched. He gasped for breath, each motion painful. He could hear the guards shuffle uncomfortably at the sight of a young child being tortured, but they still did nothing to stop it. Malik knew he was on his own.

The question was what could he do?

As difficult as it was to accept, Malik had to make a choice between himself and Bakura. He couldn't fight off the priest, especially not with a sword inside of him. And even then, that choice really didn't exist. There was no guarantee the priest wasn't going to kill him anyway, even if he cooperated. Besides, the priest clearly meant to seriously hurt Bakura, if not kill the thief outright. He could see that there would be no opportunity to beg Isis to convince the Pharaoh to spare Bakura.

With all that said and done, there really weren't any other options left open to him. He could never sell out Bakura, even to save his own life. He couldn't fight off the priest, as he could feel his body starting to go numb from pain. He was losing far too much blood. And even if he didn't have a sword inside of him, he was still greatly outnumbered and the priest had the power to neutralize even the Anubis statue. He had no chance against them. So what could he do?

Runihura ceased moving the sword once again, if just to allow Malik the chance to respond. "Boy, you had best answer for your sake, and quickly," he said in a low, angry tone. "As it is your wound could still be treated, but the longer you take to answer me the more blood you shall lose until you have not a drop left within your body. Tell me where the Thief King is and I shall show you mercy, otherwise I will make certain you suffer until your life ends and Ammit devours your sinning soul."

"...Devour...?" Malik murmured, his eyes widening slightly before narrowing into slits. _Devour_.

"I am here fulfilling the will of the gods, so by defying me you're defying the gods themselves!" Runihura ranted, apparently ignoring what Malik had said. "Repent and tell me all that you know now or you shall be shown no mercy from me or the gods for your defiance! _Tell me where the Thief King is._"

Malik's expression darkened as he mustered the energy to glare at Runihura. His hand twitched before jerking back, snapping the locket's chain around his neck. His hand fell to his side, still clutching the now chainless locket in his fingers. His whole body was starting to go numb, but he had to be strong - he had to protect Bakura.

Malik swore that he would save Bakura!

"Impudent boy!" Runihura snarled as he once again began to twist the sword, this time more harshly, so that it created a sickening sound as blood splattered everywhere. "I know that you are in cahoots with the Thief King! The gods themselves have told me! Surrender him now or you shall be cursed eternally!"

Malik let out another scream and hunched forward, his eyes snapping shut. After the spasm finished coursing through the young boy's body, he slowly lifted his head to glare poisonously at Runihura. "...The thief... king... is beyond... _your_... reach..."

The young boy jerked his hand about so that the locket was facing the wall, before tapping it roughly against the stone. Malik felt a surge of satisfaction as he felt the wall shudder before it started to move.

"Will... of the... Gods?" the blond hissed at Runihura, though he found himself grinning at his victory. "...Let's see... your _gods_... protect you..."

"What in the world?" Runihura gasped as the wall began to move and stepped back, removing his sword from Malik's body as he did so.

Malik fell forward with the sword no longer holding him upright, and landed on his face, though he couldn't feel the impact. He couldn't feel much of anything anymore, as his body was going numb.

As the secret door once hidden by the statue of Anubis began to open a massive dark cavern was revealed. The light of the torches could then reach inside to reflect off countless massive formations of crystal in every color in the rainbow. The sight was so dazzling that the priest and soldiers momentarily forgot why they were there as they gazed in awe at the marvelous sight that was beyond anything they had ever seen before.

However, their vision was soon blocked as a dark shadow appeared in the doorway seconds before a pair of hideous eyes, white in color and undoubtedly sightless, peered in through the hole, accompanied by a low growl.

The shadowy creature shifted, each movement accented by the sounds of nails running along stone. It possessed countless rows of razor sharp teeth, jagged and uneven, which glistened in the torch light as a long, slimy tongue flickered out.

The tongue rolled about as the guards and priest alike gawked at what they saw, not truly comprehending it. Slowly the muscle twitched about before finally stopping, more or less in the direction of the priest. The creature hesitated a moment before slurping the tongue back in to its mouth, saliva splattering about. It then hunched forward and let out an unearthly _scream_ before charging forward through the doorway.

Malik was unable to see the creature, or even the fate of the priest and the guards. However, he was able to _hear_ it. The sounds of screams, both human and not, filled his ears even as his eyes grew dim. The blond managed a weak smile as he took satisfaction in knowing that he had saved Bakura, he had saved the thief from the horrible priest and his guards.

The last thing Malik saw before darkness overcame him was the fuzzy image of the Anubis statue as it crouched next to him, eyes glowing a soft red.

----

It had been a terrible day for Bakura.

Though Bakura had gone out that morning with the intent to only get supplies from the city, on the way there he had been suddenly overwhelmed by the spirits' cries. They had become so loud and so insistent so abruptly that he had nearly blacked out. He had no choice, he had to make another sacrifice to them, otherwise they would have driven him insane.

That was where it had all gone wrong. The thief couldn't be as cautious as he normally would have been because of the agony the spirits put him through. Though he did not get caught kidnapping a traveler leaving the city, he was unable to properly bind his captive. His next mistake was to take his prisoner directly to Kuru Eruna so that he could silence the spirits as soon as possible.

Before Bakura could take his captive into the temple, the man had gotten free, and had a hidden knife. Though the thief had won the scuffle and the man ultimately became a sacrifice, he did not come out unscathed.

Bakura had been fortunate in a way. If the knife had slashed any deeper into his flesh, he would have lost his right eye.

Without any way to treat the wound, Bakura returned home holding the still bleeding right side of his face. He expected that Malik would be horrified by the fact that he was now covered in his own blood instead of just his victim's, and that his friend would use this as yet another excuse to try and convince him not to listen to the spirits anymore.

He did not expect to find that yet another place that he called home was the site of a massacre.

The cave was filled with corpses strewn about, mostly in pieces, as blood stained nearly everything in sight. What was further shocking was not only that the more intact dead bodies were recognized as being soldiers of the Pharaoh, but there were also twisted masses of flesh, claws, fangs, and other things that certainly did not look remotely human. The still forms of the unnatural, nearly indescribable fallen creatures were covered in pearl colored ooze that apparently served as their blood, which also was covering the statues of Ra, Osiris, and Obelisk. There were also many burn marks scorched into the stone and charred piles of what likely were of things formerly living. The smell of blood, burnt flesh, and something nauseatingly sweet filled the air so thickly that it could be tasted.

For a moment Bakura could only stare, eyes wide with shock and horror. He didn't even notice the blood that coated his right eye in doing so, making it harder to see beyond streaks of crimson. Though part of him immediately felt as if what he was seeing now was nothing but a nightmare, one of what he feared the most that he might find one day when returning to the cave, he knew too well not to doubt anything that seemed too horrible to be real.

Then Bakura was running. He shouted Malik's name at the top of his lungs as he desperately sought any sign of his friend, fearing the worst. He was nearly tripping over corpses in his haste as he ran from entrance hall, as most of the bodies seemed to be clustered there. He would have guessed that many of the soldiers must have been somehow trapped inside the cave where the creatures ate them if his mind wasn't completely focused on finding Malik.

Strange noises issued from down the hallway, where a massive creature suddenly appeared into view, dragging a mangled body of what once had been a soldier. The creature was disfigured and disgusting, a freak of nature that looked as if it came right out of a nightmare. It looked almost reptilian, and yet covered with quills and spikes. Its jaws were enormous, far too big for its face as bloodstained teeth jutted out in all directions.

The creature lunged forward to tear a chunk of flesh from the corpse, then turned around to face Bakura with eyes that looked sickly white and devoid of any pupil, but instead there were many blue and purple veins visible on the surface. It paused, and then sniffed slightly with its massive nostrils.

The creature breathed deeply, taking in Bakura's scent. It paused once more, dropping the corpse so that it landed noisily on the ground, then turned to face the thief more fully. Its tail lashed behind it, brushing against the ground as if it were continuously gauging its surroundings.

Bakura was forced to skid to a halt in the face of this monster. He could instantly identify just how dangerous the creature's massive teeth, claws, and quills were, particularly by how thoroughly decorated they were with blood. His instincts told him to run from the abomination before him, and his common sense told him that it was too dangerous to face.

However, neither had any say in Bakura's actions right now.

"_Get out of my way!_" he shrieked as he quickly drew his knife, ready to kill the creature in front of him. His sanity had already taken a heavy toll from the spirits earlier, and the sight of so many slain in such gruesome ways, both human and creature, coupled with his fear of what might have happened to Malik, made him fear nothing else.

The creature crouched, as if it were about to attack Bakura. However, it suddenly snorted before rearing back with a shriek and whipped around to bolt in the other direction. It tore through the hallway, trying to get away from Bakura as quickly as it could.

Bakura was startled momentarily by the abomination's retreat, but didn't spend any more time than that wondering why the creature fled from him. Instead he shouted Malik's name, hoping for some sort of response, lest another monster find the blond first... if it hadn't already.

The creature disappeared around the corner, only its footsteps still audible, before another loud shriek issued - this time, a more frenzied one followed by a very familiar howling sound. The cave shook as a bright light flashed, and the sound of something heavy collapsing issued from up ahead.

Even though it wasn't a sign of where Malik was, the activity was enough to spur Bakura into running in the same direction where the creature had retreated. All he could think about was finding Malik, or at least some sort of clue as to where his friend was.

As Bakura rounded the curve, he came face to face with the mangled, smoking corpse of the creature that had just tried to run from him. Its head was gone, splattered on the wall, as the neck wound was cauterized from intense heat. Sitting next to the corpse, crouching, was the Anubis statue.

And the crumbled form of the one he sought.

Bakura's eyes widened with horror. "_MALIK!_" he screamed at the top of his lungs as he ran to his fallen friend's side.

Malik twitched slightly, resting on his side in a large puddle of blood that undoubtedly was his own. There was a large oozing wound in his chest, and more of the life-giving fluid trickled down the corner of his mouth. He grimaced before his eyes fluttered open, his eyes glazed.

Bakura fell to his knees before he even stopped running once he had gotten close enough to Malik, causing him to skid slightly on the blood-covered floor. "Malik!" he cried, aghast, as he took in just how terrible the other boy's injury was.

"...S... sorry..." Malik whispered, his voice weak. He tried to look in Bakura's general direction, having trouble seeing anything at all anymore. "S... sorry..."

"Don't... don't talk-!" Bakura said, frantic. Without hesitation he removed his jacket and used it to apply pressure to Malik's wound, trying to prevent more from leaking out. He tied it around the blond's chest firmly so that he could block the hole in the back as well. He needed to stop the blood flow and treat Malik immediately, otherwise...

"Sa... safe...? Ah... are you... safe...?" Malik murmured before coughing violently, spitting up blood as he did so. His body convulsed, some blood splattering on to Bakura.

"Y-yes," Bakura said, his voice weak, as he struggled to quickly pick Malik up as carefully as he possibly could. The blood splattering onto him did not trouble him so much as the fact that Malik was losing so much of it. He didn't even notice the terrible wound on his face anymore. All that he could think of was that Malik was dying and that he needed some way, some miracle to save his friend's life, even if the logical part of his mind knew that Malik's wound was too great, the blond had lost too much blood, and likely there was simply nothing that he could do to stop all of the bleeding in time. Not even his strongest medicine could seal such a deep gaping wound or replace so much lost blood.

Even still Bakura had to try.

"G-good..." Malik smiled weakly. "...Good... you're... safe... good..."

The blond's eyes were drifting closed of their own violation. He no longer felt any pain, which was good, though he also felt oddly detached from his body. It was as if he were floating away.

"M-Malik!" Bakura cried, his voice starting to waver. He ran to the room where he kept his medicine. Maybe there was still time. Maybe if he used all of his medicine, every single trick he knew of, then maybe, just maybe...!

Unfortunately that hope was dashed in the cruelest of ways. For as Bakura entered the room created especially for magical rituals, where he crafted and stored all of his medicine, he discovered, to his horror, that everything had been destroyed. Glass, pottery, furniture, and ruined littered the floor, along with bloody, dismembered corpses. The thief looked frantically for something, _anything_ that could help him, but he saw nothing but ruin.

"N-no..." Bakura breathed in horror as he fell to his knees, clutching Malik desperately to him, as if it would somehow keep death from taking his friend away from him. "No..." His voice became a whimper as he looked at Malik with moist eyes, and he reached out to touch his lover's cheek so lightly, as if afraid that the touch would shatter Malik like glass. "P-please n-no... M-Malik... P-pl-please d-don't d-die! P-please!" He knew that pleading would do nothing. Nothing he did would save Malik now. "D-don't leave me!"

"Ba... Baku... ra... I..." Malik murmured, lying limply in Bakura's arms. He felt he had to say his next words quickly, before he lost the chance forever. "...Love... you... so much... love you... so much..."

Bakura felt the breath leave his body at those words, as Malik used his last breath to say them. The silver haired boy could not speak as he watched the light die from Malik's eyes.

"No..." Bakura spoke so very quietly, not wanting to believe that he had just watched Malik die. Tears flowed freely from his silver eyes, the ones from his right mixing with the blood on his face, causing his wound to sting, but he was unaware, as the pain in his heart was infinitely greater. "Please... please... p-please no... M-Malik... Malik! You can't die! _You can't die! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME ALONE TOO!_"

Bakura clutched Malik's lifeless body closely as he shed tears for his fallen friend. "Please..." he whispered into Malik's ear, even though the other boy could no longer hear him. "Please... p-please... you c-can't leave me... I love you..."

Bakura wished with all his heart that those words would be like a spell to bring Malik back to him, but he heard no more words from the one he loved, no breath in Malik's body. The only sounds that filled the cave now, were his own quiet sobs as he wept for the one who his heart needed the most.

Grief overtook Bakura then, and he threw back his head to scream to the havens, his voice echoing through every corner of the cave, and even spilling outside, but no one heard his cry.

"**_MALIK!!!_**"

----

It was hard to tell how long Bakura remained that way, holding Malik's body closely to his own. All sense of time slipped away from him like sand through an hourglass. Neither his crying, nor his pleas, were able to perform a miracle to bring Malik back to him. The only thing that had changed was that the warmth had left his love's body, and some time during his mourning he had pulled out a fistful of his hair, but he did not remember exactly when he had done so.

The spirits were speaking to him again, but Bakura did not hear them so much as felt them on some part of his subconscious mind that was not deadened by grief.

Slowly, over the haze, memories of rotting corpses came back to him. He had seen them almost endlessly in his nightmares that the spirits had used to gain his attention. He couldn't count the number of real corpses that he had seen over his life. In particular the bodies that had littered the village of Kuru Eruna came so vividly to mind.

As Bakura stared at Malik's corpse, he knew that his love would not return to this lifeless body. No, it would now only start to decay, melt away, until nothing remained but bones.

Bakura could not handle the thought of it. His heart could not bear to see that, not again, not with Malik.

He wrapped a silk sheet around Malik's body, one the from their bed, where they had spent so much time holding each other close, and carried the corpse from the cave.

Bakura never looked back.

The trip from the cave to Kuru Eruna was all a blur. Bakura didn't even remember if he had ridden Dusk there or simply walked the entire way. He did not care either way to spare it a single thought.

Though years ago Bakura had sealed part of the temple up, along with a number of hated items within, he now broke the seal, for these same things that he had despised for even existing for so very long were necessary now.

It took some time to set them up according to memory, but somehow it all came to him clearer than he had ever remembered before. He knew exactly what to do, where to put a particular object, and what symbol to etch where necessary.

When he was done, Bakura retrieved Malik's body from where he had placed it upon the altar. He had not wanted to let go of his friend, even if Malik was now dead, and the blond's body was nothing but an empty shell, but it was necessary.

Everything was perfectly in place. It was just as Bakura remembered it to be, save that he was alone there now. There were no screams; there were no people, except for him, and the cold body he held in his arms.

For a moment Bakura hesitated. Part of him wanted to stop. That part knew that this was all wrong and that he shouldn't be doing something like this. Unfortunately that part was smothered by an all-encompassing grief. The only reason now for him to pause was so that he could pull back the covers from Malik's face and give one last kiss to his love's cold lips. Though it had seemed that he had ran out of tears, a tear formed in each eye to run down his cheeks and lay to rest on Malik's. He wished that he could go with Malik to where his love had gone, but he knew that his soul was stained with too much darkness, too heavy with sin to be granted an afterlife to share eternity with Malik.

"I love you, Malik," Bakura breathed, his voice so empty. "I'm sorry." There was so much that he was sorry for. He was sorry that he could never say those words while Malik was still alive. His pride, his pain, and his foolishness in waiting for a perfect moment that never came stopped him from telling Malik what was in his heart while he still at the chance. He was sorry that he was a sinner. He was sorry that he could not stop, despite how Malik had tried so hard to convince him to. He was sorry that the same sin that damned him kept him away from Malik when his love needed him the most. He was sorry that because he sinned, and because he knew that he could not escape this sin, that their souls would never be reunited, not even in death. And he was sorry for what he was about to do.

After taking one last look, Bakura covered Malik's head once again with the blanket so that no part of his love was still visible to his eyes. His hand shook as he did so, for he knew that it would be the last time he ever set his eyes upon the one he loved. He extended his arms, holding Malik's body over the cauldron and then let it go.

Bakura did not turn away from what he had done, and watched as fires made of gold consumed Malik's body. Part of him screamed for him to turn away, to not look, but he did not obey that part of him. He had not obeyed that desperate desire to avert his eyes as a child when the fires had taken his family, and he would not look away now when they now took his love away.

As Malik's body melted away, part of Bakura too seemed to melt away as well on the inside. That was why he did not notice that there was no golden metal left behind like with the ninety-nine sacrifices that had created the Millennium Items on that night so long ago. Only golden flames filled the cauldron, growing larger and reaching higher until they spilled over.

Bakura was unable to react in time to move away before the flames reached him. The flames licked at his skin, surrounding him, and he watched them in a daze, until the pain they brought pierced through the haze enveloping his mind. He screamed then as the flames consumed him.

Eventually the flames died and Bakura's body fell to the floor. He breathed shallowly as his eyes gaped upwards wide and unseeing. The flames did not mark his body, save for how they had somehow managed to seal the wound on his face, leaving behind a prominent scar.

Bakura did not realize it at this time, but the grating white noise at the back of his mind that was the spirits was now eased. It became soothing, but his heart still hurt too much to know that now. Something else was there now too, or maybe it had been there all along, and it only now was able to make its presence stronger, more pronounced. He did not notice this presence, at least not consciously, and he never would.

But Bakura would not have cared to know these things at this time. He did not care about anything anymore, for all that he truly cared for was gone forever. He simply closed his eyes and allowed himself to die inside so that he would be free of all the pain.

And from within the shadows of the temple the demon king known as Zork Necrophades, ruler of the realm of darkness, laughed as the soul of his one-hundredth sacrifice was finally bound to him completely for eternity.


	18. Omake Special!

Authors' note: This chapter is a bonus omake and **not** part of the story's canon itself. We just figured we would add something funny and lighthearted after how tragic the story ended. We hope you enjoy it!

**Aurora**

By Neon Tiger and Yuki Ryu

Omake Special

The atmosphere was heavy and the air was thick with the smell of ozone. A rumble like thunder or perhaps a massive creature growling was heard on and off. Unfortunately it was difficult to make out anything in this dark space.

Malik stared about in disbelief, his blonde hair whipping about in the wind, wearing a purple hooded vest and black pants as well as various assortments of golden jewelry - such as earrings with sharp points. "This is..."

"...Totally ridiculous?"

Bakura emerged from the darkness with a rather perturbed look on his face. Though his eyes were silver, much like the thief's, his clothes were from the modern era, consisting of a white and blue striped t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and a long black coat that looked perfectly ordinary, not twisted in some odd fashion that it tended to inexplicably be in virtually every other time he was seen wearing it.

Malik turned to face Bakura, his expression surprised for a moment before becoming one of exasperation. "...Well, it's nice to see someone _else_ feels the same."

"I don't know about you, but I'm sick of being here all the time," Bakura said as he eyed the swirling darkness surrounding them and snapped his fingers. Oddly enough in that instant the dark clouds dispersed and their surroundings shifted to reveal the inside of a rather ordinary looking building. There were some couches, tables, snack machines, and other things to make the place look like a break room.

"_You're_ sick of it?" Malik scoffed before moving to flop down on one of the couchs. "Do you have any idea how sick I am of all of this?"

"You're not the one who keeps dissolving or some other crazy crap in these cracked dreams," Bakura retorted, eying Malik, as he sat down on the couch opposite of the blond and crossed his legs as well as his arms.

"Are you forgetting the fact that my _spine_ apparently dissolved?" Malik arched an eyebrow as he regarded Bakura.

"Hmm... yeah, you _have_ been acting like a weakling," Bakura mused as he lightly rubbed his chin. "It's pretty pathetic."

Malik's cheek twitched slightly. "...Look, I understand the situation that led up to my acting like that. It's realistic and to be expected. I just would have preferred it if they _didn't_ put me in that situation to create such an outcome!"

Bakura nodded ever so slightly. "I agree. It's irritating to have to keep delaying actually _doing_ anything in order to try and fix that damage. Not that the making out hasn't been fun."

Malik's cheeks tinted slightly at that. "...Well, be as it may..."

"As much as I like dominating you and doing pretty much whatever I want to you, it's irritating having to treat you like you're made of glass," Bakura continued as he regarded Malik with a bland look.

"D-dominating-!" Malik sputtered before he sat up, glowering at Bakura. "Don't you think I'm embarrassed by it!"

"Naturally," Bakura replied simply, his lips quirking into a slight smile.

Malik's cheeks darkened slightly, and he let out a huff before crossing his arms and slouching back in to the couch. "You're changing the subject, or are you just trying to embarrass me?"

"I'm just making my own observations on the situation we're in." Bakura quirked an eyebrow upwards ever so slightly. "Just like I've observed that my behavior varies oddly at times from mature and knowledgeable to acting just like a child. Not to mention we're losing track of the original point of adding these extra supernatural aspects to my past."

"Who are you to complain about that? You're surrounded by _ghosts_," Malik snorted before turning to face Bakura again. "I'm more concerned with the fact that I'm apparently neutered!"

"Really?" Bakura's smile turned rather wicked. "Then what was it that you sprayed me with before? Cream?"

Malik's face couldn't have turned any redder. "...You're such an ass."

Bakura laughed at that. "So that's your _only_ problem? Losing your manhood?"

"...Well, no, but that's the primary one." Malik replied.

"Hmm..." Bakura leaned back against the sofa, his amused smile slipping away "They've forgotten the main point of the story, you know. It was supposed to be about my past, which was barely touched on in the original story, and they completely forgot about that because of all the distractions. Now it's been crammed in and is so out of place it might as well not be there at all!" He made an irritated noise as his expression changed to match his mood. "No wonder they're going to rewrite the entire thing."

"I think it might be because things kept getting added, instead of just being rewritten in the first place." Malik leaned back in to the couch once more.

"They should have been cutting crap _out_," Bakura grunted as he eyed Malik. "They better do that in the rewrite. If we have to go through that again I'm going to break more than just the fourth wall."

"Well, so far, it sounds like I've got my balls back," Malik muttered. "They'd better keep that in the final draft."

Bakura shifted slightly and uncrossed his legs as he sat up. "As long as they don't have me blurting out my entire past all at once and don't start piling tons of shit on us, I'll be happy."

"That was pretty cheesy, wasn't it?" Malik laughed. "But hey, at least I wasn't raped by everyone under the sun, like some people suggested."

Bakura let out an incensed snort. "Including me. What the hell gave them the idea that I like to _rape_ people?"

Malik shrugged at that. "Who knows?"

Bakura let out a quiet grunt before eying Malik. "Speaking of sex, think there's going to be any in the rewrite?"

Malik blinked as his face turned red again. "...Why are you so concerned about that?"

"Because we never had sex, damn it!" Bakura slammed his fist down onto the sofa cushion. "They went all the way to NC-17, but we _still_ didn't go all the way!"

Malik eyed Bakura oddly, his face a brilliant shade of red. "...You sound as if you were looking forward to it."

Bakura gave Malik an odd look of his own. "You weren't?"

"I didn't say that." Malik retorted.

Bakura arched one eyebrow upwards. "Then what were you saying?"

"I was just pointing out that you were looking forward to it." Malik replied cheekily.

"Che." Bakura snorted in irritation. "You're such a brat."

"And you're an ass," Malik smirked. "That makes us even."

Bakura leaned forward slightly as he gazed intently at Malik. "They better keep you like this in the rewrite so I can enjoy nailing your smug ass against the wall."

"...Don't you mean _to_ the wall?" Malik arched an eyebrow.

Bakura simply grinned wickedly in response.

Malik stared at Bakura for a moment, before making a face. "...Pervert."

Bakura chuckled evilly and leaned back against the sofa again, looking rather smug. "So what do you think all that excess symbolism was about?"

Malik blinked at the subject change, but didn't say anything as he was rather thankful for it. "Oh, I've already figured that out. But it's really hard to catch, as it requires you to think outside the box... so to speak."

Bakura cocked his head to the side slightly. "You understood _all_ of it?"

"Er, no," Malik grimaced slightly. "I've figured out some of it, but... I meant that I've figured out why it's happening."

"Do tell," Bakura replied in a somewhat bland tone as he crossed his arms.

"Well, that..." Malik was cut off from replying when the miniature golden-winged jackal wearing a red robe with white trim and gold decorations suddenly walked past them, toddling his way over to the snack machine.

Without a word, the small creature pointed at the snack machine. The machine exploded, sending snacks everywhere. The creature reached out to grab the various snacks it desired, until its arms were completely filled, before it turned and went back the way it came.

Malik stared after the creature before turning to fix Bakura with a neutral expression. "...Well, I can tell you there was no symbolism in _that_."

Bakura watched the tiny jackal disappear with an unnerved expression on his face. "...They eat way too much sugar."

"...That completely distracted me," Malik sighed as he rubbed his forehead. "Just like how every shiny new idea seems to distract them, and lead to the giant quagmire they're calling a story."

"No wonder they put an end to it," Bakura added and closed one eye due to irritation.

"I wonder if anyone will even understand what's happening," Malik sighed wearily.

"I doubt it, unless we give it away," Bakura retorted snidely.

"I doubt they'd let us get away with that," Malik chuckled.

"What do they care?" Bakura threw an arm up into the air in a rather dismissive manner. "They're the ones who chose to ditch this story in their 'canon'."

"Well, it's understandable. This story has taken how many years to complete?" Malik rolled his eyes. "Hah! They're lucky anyone's even reading it anymore... or would want to read this new one, too."

"That's probably why they're indecisive about whether the new story's going to be PG-13 or will be so chock full of smut practically every chapter has sex in it," Bakura commented rather blandly. "Me, I'd just be happy with nailing your ass at least _once_."

Malik stared at Bakura, looking particularly stunned.

"What?" Bakura demanded after he noticed the expression on Malik's face. "You can't tell me you're not frustrated too about them backing off on that after we got so close."

"...I'm not going to comment on that," Malik muttered. "It'd encourage you."

"Right, right, and this whole bit right here is supposed to be kept something close to PG-13," Bakura grunted as he made a vague gesture at their surroundings.

Malik glanced around for a moment as his fingers tapped on the couch. "...Hm."

Bakura glanced at those tapping fingers, the couch, and then gazed at Malik rather intently. "...Though there _is_ the NC-17 version..."

"Well, it'd probably be censored to post on that other site... but..." Malik trailed off.

Bakura crouched slightly, a rather predatory smile on his face, but before he could answer or stand up a large top hat fell on his head. "_What the hell?_"

Malik turned around to stare at Bakura before tilting his head. "...It's a hat."

With an irritated growl Bakura tore off the massive top hat from his head, which was of a rather loud, garish color. "I take it this is their 'cute' way of saying 'denied'."

"...Or they're saying you're horny like a rabbit." Malik grinned.

Bakura stared at Malik oddly. "What?"

Malik pointed at his ears, still grinning.

Bakura was silent for a full minute as he gazed intently at Malik. "They put rabbit ears on my head, didn't they," he guessed at last in a dark tone.

Malik couldn't help but burst out laughing.

Instantly Bakura rose up to his feet and strode over to a full length mirror on the wall that hadn't been there before to verify that indeed his normal ears had been replaced with a pair of fluffy white rabbit ears, which twitched with the irritation he felt. "...Bitc..." he began only to be interrupted as a creampuff inexplicably shot out of a nearby vending machine and ended up crammed into his mouth, muffling whatever he was going to say.

Malik was practically howling with laugher, collapsing on the sofa as he covered his face as if to try and stifle the sound - albeit uselessly.

Bakura shot Malik an extremely annoyed look as he bit into the creampuff and removed the rest from his face. "Did I mention how annoying they could be?" he asked rhetorically once he chewed and swallowed his mouthful of pastry.

Malik managed to calm his laughter in to a mixture of snickers and chuckles, though he didn't bother getting up.

Bakura eyed Malik as he began to walk over to the sofa where the blond was lying down. Without warning he suddenly took what was left of the cream puff and splattered the filling all over Malik's exposed stomach. "Brat."

Malik yowled and sat up, staring down at his stomach before grimacing as the pastry coated his skin.

Bakura chuckled, grinning rather mischievously. "I would clean that up for you, but if I try what I've got in mind they're going to add a tail to match these ears," he commented wryly.

"Ugh...," Malik grimaced before proceeding to stick his finger in the cream, wiping up some of it before putting his finger in his mouth. "...Mmm."

Bakura's cheek twitched. "Oi."

"Mmmmn..." Malik grinned as he sucked on his finger slightly.

"You're taking advantage of the fact that I can't pounce on you, aren't you," Bakura accused as he gazed at Malik intently.

Malik slowly slid his finger out of his mouth and flashed Bakura a wicked grin.

"...Careful, or you're going to have a horny rabbit on your tail," Bakura warned as he eyed Malik and leaned in a little closer to the other boy.

Malik's response was to coat his finger in cream before sliding it in to his mouth again, before moving it in and out in a rather suggestive manner.

Bakura's cheek twitched again before he got a rather predatory look on his face. "I warned you."

"Hm?" Malik blinked and looked at Bakura, feigning confusion - his finger half in his mouth.

Suddenly Bakura lunged and practically pounced Malik back down into the sofa, pinning the messy blond beneath him.

Malik yelped as he was pounced, falling backwards on the sofa. He stared up at the predatory rabbit, his face slightly flushed. "...Uh."

"I don't care what they do," Bakura growled, his lustful gaze locked with Malik's. "I'm going to _ravage_ you and make you scream my name until you pass out."

"You shouldn't tempt them like that..." Malik pointed out, his face turning even redder as he stared up at Bakura from his rather helpless position.

Bakura simply smiled in a predatory fashion as he leaned down to...

**_THE END_**


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